


To be Honest is to be Vulnerable

by gentlewhumping



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Accidental Emotional Manipulation, Angst, Anorexia, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Spencer Reid, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Bulimia, But also, Canon-Typical Violence, Captivity, Childhood Trauma, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Coming Out, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Disordered Eating, Drama, Drug Abuse, Drug Withdrawal, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Emily Prentiss is a lesbian, Emotional Manipulation, Feels, Friends to Lovers, Gaslighting, Hurt/Comfort, I didnt mean to write MoReid, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Injury Recovery, Internalized Homophobia, Jealous Derek, Like really slow, Loss of Trust, Manipulative Relationship, Mental Health Issues, Murder, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Beta Read, POV Spencer Reid, Past Drug Addiction, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Relapsing, Sad Spencer Reid, Sexual Repression, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Spencer Reid Whump, Spencer Reid-centric, Touch Aversion, Triggers, Trust Issues, Unhealthy Relationships, We Die Like Men, Worried Derek Morgan, accidental gaslighting, all genres smashed into one too-long fic, all that fun stuff, anyway..., because fuck cbs, but they were cowards, but you know how it is, oh yeah, there are some laughs, they were Supposed to be canon queer, touch avoidance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 99
Words: 83,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24548263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentlewhumping/pseuds/gentlewhumping
Summary: Reid-centricSlow Build/BurnProfilers aren't telepathic, and are apt to miss things right in front of their faces just as much as anyone else. Unfortunately.This started out as a short ficlet about how Spencer's life would be with an eating disorder, but quickly spiraled into an 'au' wherein he really just gets fucked over by life. There are multiple storylines going on throughout, also involving other bau peeps!Very much a whump and hurt/comfort fic. Please read the tags! There are a lot, but many of them are trigger warnings.
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 768
Kudos: 970





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ!
> 
> I want to make it clear that this story happens AFTER Spencer was kidnapped and after he recovered from his addiction to dilaudid, but BEFORE Emily's backstory involving Doyle. In this universe, Emily is a lesbian, so as far as I'm concerned that story arc isn't applicable. Because of this timeline, JJ only has one child (Henry), and Hotch has recovered/is emotionally recovering from the loss of Haley/being stabbed.
> 
> I believe this places me around season 5, but if there are inconsistencies I do apologize, I did my best to recreate a feasible and understandable timeline in which this would take place. All of this being said, after the points mentioned above, my story delves into 'AU' territory, because I don't write at the show's pace/ don't include canon future events.
> 
> Thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy!!

ONE LAST TRIGGER WARNING:

I tagged it in as many relevant ways as I could think, but I want to make it clear one more time- In this fic, Spencer Reid has an **eating disorder** that he is Not getting treatment for. This fic is from his POV, so we are able to hear (or read) some of his thoughts. More specifically, I've chosen to include eating disorder related **intrusive thoughts**. If you don't know what this means, I encourage you to read a bit about them before continuing. It'll definitely help with understanding why in parts of this writing it seems like Spencer is 'fighting' with his own thoughts. 

-

Spencer Reid is 28 years old, is 6 feet and 1 inch (185.4 cm), and weighs 135 pounds. He eats no more than 1,200 calories a day when he isn’t fasting (though he never called it that), and during physically demanding cases allows up to 1,500. He rarely meets those limits.

Spencer Reid is highly intelligent, and knows that what he is doing isn’t healthy. He can see perfectly well what he is doing to himself, and knows every statistic imaginable regarding eating disorders. That’s why he takes iron supplements, takes multivitamins, drinks plenty of water, and most importantly eats more during cases. He knows it’s not enough, but it’s all he can do.

Spencer knows the profile of an eating disorder. He knows that it’s frequently a coping mechanism for those who need control, and is often paired with body dysmorphia and self-degrading thoughts. People with eating disorders often have another mental illness, such as anxiety, ocd, or depression. Many have experienced some form of trauma in their lives. He detaches himself from that knowledge. It's easier to ignore it than confront it.

He knows the signs to look for, and knows how to hide them best.  
JJ and Garcia want to go out for dinner? Spencer didn’t eat all day so he could say yes. They could watch him enjoy his single meal without a flinch.  
Morgan and Emily came into work wearing short sleeves? Spencer shrugs off his coat and comments on how warm it is today. His goosebumps are too small to notice unless they were looking.  
Rossi noticed he was looking down? It’s his schizophrenic mom, or a migraine, or the tragedy of the case. It certainly couldn’t be a painful, stabbing gnaw of hunger.

Once, Spencer had been confronted by Hotch and JJ. They said they were worried because he looked so thin and tired. Spencer had been at his lowest (adult) weight then, 121 pounds (56.2 kg). He smiled, thanked them for their concern, and said he was so busy and distracted, he forgot to eat anything yesterday. He let JJ take him out for an early lunch. He smiled and laughed and ate and thanked her again.

He promised himself he wouldn’t dip under 125 pounds again, wouldn’t bring himself under suspicion again. He couldn't afford for the team to find out.

But that was four months ago, and now he’s 135 pounds.  
And as he stared at the scale, he could feel his eyes start to tear up. It was a bit ridiculous, he knew. 135 pounds was not a high number. In fact, it was still underweight for his height. Logically, he could do with adding on ten more pounds. Emotionally, he needed to lose ten, and fast. Logically, he knew weight just fluctuated sometimes. Emotionally, he felt like he was being punished for maintaining at 130 for so long instead of losing more like he wanted to.

When Spencer arrived at work, he wanted to just slip quietly into his seat and pretend he was alone. So instead he smiled and waved at JJ, said good morning to Emily, laughed when Derek made a comment about his mismatched socks. He didn't even have a chance to put down his bag before Penelope was calling them into the conference room. He didn't know if he was relieved to have a distraction or upset he couldn't zone out for the day.

“Alrighty, so this one is a _doozy_ ,” She began, pulling up images of three men on her screen. All were white, dark haired, strong jawed. “These three men were all found in various parks in southwest Missouri. They had been… displayed… along lovely walking trails that were a lot less lovely with blood in the paths.” Here she motioned towards the team to look for themselves on their tablets. Reid opened his physical file. He immediately saw why Penelope hadn’t wanted to pull them up on the big screen herself. The men had been hacked apart at the joints, and they were strewn up and down the paths.

“Oh my god…” Emily muttered.

“Garcia, where are their heads?” Spencer asked after thumbing through and examining each photo.

“Oh, my sweet brainiac, that is an excellent question for which I do not have the answer.” Penelope said in an equally concerned and disturbed tone. “What I do know is that the first body was discovered two weeks ago, the second five days ago, and the third just this morning.”

“Sounds like he’s accelerating, we should get a move on.” Hotch said. “Wheels up in twenty.”


	2. Chapter 2

The flight over was relatively quiet, and when they landed Hotch and Emily went to set up at the PD while JJ and Rossi went to the crime scene. Derek and Spencer were directed to the morgue.

“Special Agent Morgan, this is Dr. Reid. I’m guessing you’re Dr. Poale?” Derek introduced himself, shaking the woman’s hand. Spencer waved absentmindedly, already looking over their shoulders at the disarray before them.

“That’s right,” The woman said. She had a tired, haggard voice, as though every ounce of energy was drained from her. Her long blonde hair was thrown up in a messy bun. Spencer recognized the look; he guessed she hadn’t left work in awhile. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” She led them to the oldest body. “He was definitely dismembered peri and antemortem.”

“Sexual sadist.” Derek murmured.

“I’m guessing the head was removed last?” Spencer questioned, examining what remained of the neck.

Dr. Poale just nodded. “The cuts are.. rough. Looks like a sawing motion was used. None of these boys lasted long, but that doesn’t mean it was a quick death either, you know?” She said heavily. She handed the three young men’s files to Spencer.

“Sawing, so that could rule out my butcher theory. Carpenter, maybe? If the sawing is important to the unsub. I imagine the physical exertion is hefty.” Spencer speculated, flipping through the reports.

“Well, let’s just say I prefer to use my table saw.” Derek said only half-jokingly. “You know what I’m not seeing, though? Hesitation marks.”

“This probably isn’t his first victim.” Spencer agreed.

“It’s the first in this area.” Dr. Poale said. “I’d remember anything remotely like this, I can tell you that.”

“Alright, well, let us know if any new information comes up.” Derek said, heading to the door.

“No problem, I’ll be here…” She replied, turning toward the most recent body, but casting down her eyes.

Spencer hesitated. “It’s better to think with a clear head.” He said when Derek was out of direct earshot.

“Excuse me?” Dr. Poale asked, facing him again.

Spencer cleared his throat awkwardly. “Sorry, just, if you take a break, then come back, sometimes that helps you find new leads, or even just… cope.”

Dr. Poale stared at him silently for a long moment before releasing the tension in her shoulders. “Is it that obvious?”

“Well, I profile for a living so…” Spencer gave a small shrug and an understanding smile.

“Thank you, doctor, I’ll… consider it.”

When Spencer caught up to Derek, he was already leaning against the car waiting. “Did you get her number, pretty boy?”

_sarcasm_  
Spencer’s stomach twisted, but he gave a nervous laugh. “What? No, no, I was just telling her to get some rest.”

“Good advice.” Derek agreed, getting into the car. “You should follow it.”

“Me? I rest, I mean not right now because we’re on a case. But I’ve actually been sleeping really well recently.” Spencer argued.

“Is that right? Well, good, I don’t want to have to drag your heavy ass around when you pass out.”

_drag your heavy ass around_  
Spencer laughed and joked back.  
 _your heavy ass_  
He called Penelope to check for any unsolved murders involving dismembering in surrounding states.  
 _135 pounds_


	3. Chapter 3

“Let’s go over victimology.” Hotch said as they sat around the whiteboard to PD had provided for them. The office was small, smaller than their conference room, but everyone fit.

“White male, dark hair, strong jawlines, trim build. All from out of town.” Spencer listed off their earlier findings.

“Garcia said they were all low risk targets, too. The second victim, Harris, was a doctor, the other two were here for interviews at different companies..” JJ added. “None of them seemed to have any obvious sketchy history, but Garcia is still digging.”

“Maybe Reid should stay out of the field for this one.” Rossi suggested.

“What? Why?” Spencer asked quickly, brow furrowing. Did he mess up somehow? Did Rossi notice him skip out on lunch? Did he notice him focusing a little too hard on the stairs up to the office room? Or did he just think him incapable?

“You fit the victim profile to a T, I was just suggesting it as a safeguard.” Rossi explained.

Spencer stared at the three pictures stuck on the board. The first victim, Louis Franklin, had shaggy dark brown hair that was messily thrown in a bun, his bangs curling out at imprecise angles. His eyes were lined with black eyeliner and his jaw was ‘sharp enough to cut you,’ as the saying went. The second, Vince Harris, had much shorter hair than Louis, but still long enough to reach his prominent cheekbones, and wavy. His stubble didn’t hide his angular jawline. The third, Matthew West, had almost shoulder length hair, wavy, with a middle part. His facial features, like the other two, were distinct.

Spencer was suddenly a bit self conscious. Did he look like those men? “I could just cut my hair.” He offered.

“I don’t know, I think Rossi’s right.” Emily said, worry evident in her voice. “Even with it shorter, it’s still dark brown and curly, and you have the facial features and body type the unsub is looking for, which is harder to conceal. Plus you’re from out of town, just like those three.”

Spencer wanted to argue the point, but pushed it down.  
 _i don’t look like them, my face is too round_  
No, he had a very angular face, they were right.  
 _i’m not a ‘slim build,’ i’m bulky_  
No, he’s pretty slender, medically underweight.

“I guess,” Spencer relented.

“Now that that’s settled, you can get started on the geographical profile. See if Garcia has found anything about earlier victims. JJ, Morgan, Prentiss, can you three handle the families? Rossi, I’d like us to speak with the men who discovered the latest disposal site.” Hotch said.

Spencer stood up, but because of his frustration he accidentally stood too quickly, instead of his normal careful rise. His head swam with stars for a split second, before he steadied himself. He watched everyone filing out. No one noticed, thankfully.

_no one noticed_

Thankfully.

Spencer’s phone rang.

“This is Dr. Reid?”

“Hi, hello, this is Dr. Poale, from the morgue. I took your advice, and it worked, but… Well, I thought I should process the stomach contents.” She sounded even more frazzled than when they left her.

“Yes? What was it?”

She exhaled loudly. “I don’t know how to put this lightly… They were stuffed with food, but also… cooked… human flesh.”

Spencer’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you able to tell whose flesh it is?” He asked.

“My guess is their own, I’ve sent away samples for confirmation, but I thought you should know right away.” Dr. Poale said.

“Yes, yeah thank you, that’s really valuable information.” Spencer assured her, then hung up. He quickly texted the team about the forced cannibalization, then focused on the geological profile, suddenly not hungry at all despite his previous wave of hunger-induced dizziness.


	4. Chapter 4

Two days turned to three, and a fourth body showed up. They IDd him quickly, since his driver’s license was still in his pocket. His name was Aaron Fischer, and he was in town for a business meeting. White, brown curly hair, slender frame, out of towner. While there were no hesitation marks, the work was sloppier, some cuts entirely missing the joints, and Dr. Poale pointed out where skin had very obviously been removed, matching it to his stomach contents.

The unsub was unravelling, and was bound to make mistakes sooner rather than later.  
Anyone who was from out of town started to quickly leave the area.

Everyone departed for their hotel rooms that night feeling defeated, but hopeful.

Spencer never brought his scale with him on cases, and hotels almost never had them in their rooms. It helped him not fixate on it so he wouldn’t be distracted from the case. But that night, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, thinking about how his weight might have fluctuated, up or down or the same. He couldn’t be more than 140, right? He hadn’t eaten more than 500 calories in each of the past three days.

He had a sudden, unrelated to his weight but related to the case, epiphany.  
He called Penelope, hoping she was still awake.

“Whaaat?” Her groggy voice and lack of usual chirper indicated otherwise. It was almost midnight, so he couldn't blame her for her annoyance.

“Hi Garcia, I’m so sorry but I just realized something and I need you to check it out first thing when you get back to work.” He said quickly.

“Oh, boy wonder, I love you and that big brain of yours, you know that, but why can’t you have amazing revelations at normal people operating hours?” She asked, pained.

“Sorry, but can you rerun your checks on the hotel staff of the three hotels? Specifically focusing on any overlapping employees, maybe part time employees who work at more than one, or connections between employees of different locations, even indirect overlap.”

“Well yeah of course I can, but why?”

“I’m thinking our unsub has help finding victims.”

“I thought you guys’ profiled a loner,” She questioned.

“Yeah, we did, and while I do think that’s right to a degree, I’m thinking they may still have a partner, someone who’s able to function better in society. I think that’s why we hit a dead end.”

-

The click of a gun at his side made him freeze. “You don’t have to do this,” Were the first words tumbling out of his mouth.

“Walk nice and slow to that van over there, alright? No funny business.” The man’s voice was rough and scratchy.

“I’m in town with other people, they will notice if I’m gone.” He tried.

“Well then, they’ll be happy when they find you.” He said, jamming the gun into Spencer’s side. “Now walk.”

Spencer complied. His phone was still in his pocket, the unsub hadn’t thought to take it off him. That was bad because it meant that the unsub wasn’t thinking clearly and could be spiraling, but it was good because Penelope would be able to find him.

He blinked, and he was tied to a chair. His heart rate skyrocketed as he took in his familiar surroundings. Hankel was there, trying to feed him some sort of unidentifiable meat. He felt heavy, slow, sleepy... dilaudid.

“It’s good for you.” Hankel insisted. “It’ll help you feel better.”

“No,” Spencer tried to say, but when he opened his mouth, he vomited instead.

He blinked again, and this time he was actually blinking, waking up in a dark hotel room, sweat soaking the sheets and eyes darting around quickly.

His stomach churned, hungry but in knots from his nightmare. He felt an aching craving for dilaudid, something that happened much less frequently now, but still stirred after seeing Hankel and feeling its affects in his dreams.

Spencer turned on the bedside lamp and read the clock. 3:16 am.

He sat up, but his head felt way too light, and he realized he’d absolutely have to eat breakfast if he didn’t want to interfere with his ability to work on the case. The hotel breakfast wouldn’t be open for two more hours, though, so he got some water and laid back down.

He was woken up by a hard knock at his door. It was light outside and his clock read 9:38 am. Rossi was at his door, telling him he was late.

“Oh no,” Spencer muttered, getting up and dressed as quickly as he could. He didn’t have time to brush his hair, so he just threw it back in a bun and tossed everything he thought he might need into his messenger bag.

“Can we swing by the breakfast bar first?” He asked Rossi.

“We’re already half an hour late, kiddo.” Rossi chastised. “They have donuts at the station, though.”

Spencer’s head swam and his sweet tooth practically jumped into his brain. “Yeah okay.”

_why would you say that, you could’ve just had an egg or toast, but a donut??_

“Do they have-”

“Chocolate with sprinkles, don’t worry I put your order in.” Rossi assured him.

“Nice!”

_terrible, what kind of breakfast is a sugar bomb-_  
A great one. After a night fueled by terror, a sweet would do him good.


	5. Chapter 5

It took time, but Penelope came through as always. She found that one of the desk attendants and a door greeter that worked at both of the other two hotels visited the same home improvement store multiple times in the past month. They were easy to locate, and were brought in for questioning immediately.

The doorman was a stone wall, refusing to talk, but the desk attendant was a different story. He broke down the second Hotch and Emily went in the room, apologizing and saying it wasn't his fault.

"What isn't your fault?" Emily pressed.

"Genevieve, she made us, you know? Made us…" The man, Darius, sobbed. "I would've come forward, but I've got a d- daughter…"

“Sir, you have to tell us exactly what happened. We can send a security detail to your house, but we need your full cooperation.” Emily said.

The man nodded, seeming to mentally prepare himself. “I would see her around the store sometimes. She’s got a son, he does some kind of driving work for them, I don’t know… But he’s real quiet. His mom, she’s got something wrong, up here,” he gestured to his own head. “But I never thought they were violent!” He dropped his head. “I didn’t know what to do… she said her son was staying at the hotel I work at. A different son. Like I said, she’s crazy, but her son is too. I tried to tell her ‘no, you’ve got it wrong lady,’ but… She said to get her kid, or she’d get mine. I threatened to go to the police, but her son…” He shook his head.

Emily and Hotch shared a knowing look. Threats on loved ones could make people do things they otherwise would’ve never dreamed of doing.

"Where are Genevieve and her son now?" Hotch asked.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry. I only see them at the shop. That’s where they had me… had me bring…” Darius broke down, understandably devastated facing what he had done.

Rossi called Penelope while Hotch kept working Darius and Derek and JJ pushed the doorman to talk.

“You’ve reached the divine goddess of wisdom and lechery, provide an offering and you will be blessed.” She answered.

“Penelope, we’ve got a name.”

“Rossi, my salt-and-pepper fox, you know how much I love a name. Gimme the goods.”

“I only have a first name, but it’s fairly uncommon. A ‘Genevieve.’ Lives in or near town and has at least one son who works for a local small business.” Rossi explained, putting the phone on speaker so Spencer and Emily could hear.

"Say no more because I accept your offering and look at that, I have a blessing: I've got a 57 year old Genevieve Lancaster, looks like she's a widow with two sons- Oop, one son, because her youngest died… oh boy, he was killed in what was ruled an accident in the family's barn when he was 15, but something tells me it might not have been an accident because the older brother was 17 at the time and looks like he was known in school to have violent, aggressive outbursts." Penelope rattled off on a conference call. "Looks like his family didn't mourn too much, poor kid, I can’t seem to even find a burial site for him and I- oh."

"What do you see baby girl?" Derek asked, having walked in as she was rattling off the family history.

"The boy, he looks…"

"Like the other victims?" Spencer supplied.

"Big time." She agreed. “Her living son, William Lancaster, is currently 34, lives with his mom, and works as a delivery driver for a home improvement store while also trying to work their farmland, which is weird because I’m not finding much in the way of crop-related purchases since his dad died back when he was 29. Says he had a heart attack. Willy’s been charged with public intoxication and gotten pulled out of more than one bar fight, but that’s all his record shows. Looks like they’ve been badly in debt for a good chunk of time and about a month ago they were told that they were warned that their land was going to be seized due to unpaid loans and a terrifying amount of unpaid bills...”

"That was right before the killings started." Emily said, eyebrows raised.

“The address, Penelope.” Rossi prompted.

She rattled off the address, and Spencer practically ran to the map. “Given the traffic for this time of day, that’s roughly thirty minutes from here.” He said, trailing a finger along the fastest route.

Emily gave a sharp nod. “Then let’s not waste anymore time, Reid, you-”

“Stay here, yeah, I know.” He said.

"Stay safe, my loves." Penelope whispered as they hung up.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUESTION FOR READERS:
> 
> Hello all! I had a quick question to gauge what updating format would appeal to you best. Would you prefer shorter, 1-2 chapter updates more frequently, or longer, 4-5 chapter updates less frequently? I see pros and cons for each, so please let me know what you think! Thank you for your support, it truly means the world to me! <3

The takedown was easy. They grabbed Genevieve quickly, and when William saw his mother in custody, he went willingly. Well, willingly after an unnecessarily dramatic standoff. They searched the area thoroughly, but thankfully didn’t find any new bodies. What they did find, however, was a macabre scene in a barn further back on the property. Scattered throughout were bloodied tools (notably, a handsaw), bloodsoaked clothes, a bloody table, and a couple small animals that looked to have been ripped apart. Displayed on a shelf were five heads, four identified as the victims from the string of murders and the fifth much older, essentially just a skull. It didn’t take a genius to guess that it once belonged to William’s long dead brother.

Spencer stared at the mother in the interrogation room through the glass, brow furrowed. She was still, almost serene looking, as though this were a regular Thursday afternoon. As JJ questioned her, she didn’t react, just stared and commented on the room being chilly. JJ left the room after a few attempts, rolling her eyes as the door closed behind her.

“She isn’t going to say anything. We can prove it was William easily, but we need something to really nail her involvement.” JJ said to Spencer. “Maybe after we get more information from William, we can use that against her, but right now-”

“Let me talk to her.” Spencer interrupted.

“What?” JJ scoffed. “No, no way.”

“I’m their type, she might accidentally let her defenses slip.” Spencer pushed. “It’s a good idea.”

“It’s not safe, Spence.” JJ said, eyes wide with worry.

“Hotch or Morgan can come in with me, but I’m pretty sure I can handle a little old lady.” Spencer said jokingly.

Minutes later, he and Derek entered the room. When Genevieve saw Derek, nothing happened, but when she saw Spencer, something changed in her eyes.

“You haven’t been eating.” She said as Spencer sat down across from her. It startled him a bit, but he smoothed it over quickly. Derek hovered near the door, arms crossed. “You know you need to build up muscle if you want to be useful around the farm, Jules.”

Her son’s name was Julian, Spencer recalled. She was delusional. She had no medical record, but then all that meant was that she was untreated.

“Ms. Lancaster, do you know where you are right now?” Spencer asked.

“Of course I do, I’m at the damn police station.” She said sharply, but calmed down quickly. “Come back home, Julian, I can make you a nice supper, and we can talk about why you want to leave, okay?”

_just shut up about the food already._  
“My name is Dr. Spencer Reid, and you need to understand that you are here because you and your son William are suspects in the murders of four m-”

“SHUT UP!!” She screamed, and Spencer’s jaw closed tightly, grinding his teeth. “You will be my son, and you will obey me. Where the hell is William?” She abruptly calmed down again. “Why are you being so difficult? Listen, I’ll let Willy show you how to use the woodchipper, I know you’ve been wanting to do that.” She tried to stand up, only to then notice her hands were cuffed to the table. “Get this off me… Why am I handcuffed?” She seemed to be coming in and out of reality.

“Ms. Lancaster, your son Julian is dead, has been dead for a long time, and you know that.”

She shook her head. “No, no, that’s not right…”

“Did you or did you not direct hotel employees to find young men who resembled your son Julian?” Spencer asked.

“Reid..” Derek warned, but Spencer wasn’t going to back down. He’d brute force her into facing reality.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“William killed Julian years ago, and the guilt you suffered for not only letting it happen but also never telling the truth weighed on you so heavily you suffered from a psychotic break, and now you seek out surrogates for the son you lost while simultaneously allowing your living son to relive murdering his brother over and over.”

“No,” She shook her head repeatedly. “No, Willy wouldn’t- he can’t- he’s just a boy… He was just trying to show Jules how to use the chipper… It was an accident.” She pleaded.

“Maybe it was,” Spencer agreed. “Maybe William never meant for Julian to die. But all those other men, what about them?”

The woman only sobbed. “Please, don’t... Willy… He’s all I’ve got left…”


	7. Chapter 7

William’s interview was different. He didn’t admit to anything, but it was obvious how and why he did what he did. He fed his mother’s delusion by targeting individuals who looked like Julian, and when she would feed them, William would psychology torture them by feeding them their own flesh. Then, he’d take the men to the barn to kill them. Spencer wasn’t allowed to interrogate William, and he was honestly okay with that.

The next morning, the team boarded the jet to head home. It wasn’t a long flight, but JJ and Emily still found time to sleep. Hotch went over paperwork, and Derek had his headphones on. Spencer played chess with Rossi, ignoring the ache in his empty stomach. He wouldn’t be able to eat for a while, thinking about that old woman force feeding him his own flesh…

When they landed, and after Penelope got her hugs in, Hotch told them to go ahead and head home to have an early start to their weekends. No one complained, and Spencer was relieved when Rossi didn’t invite anyone over to eat.

He weighed himself as soon as he got home.

132 pounds. Better. A lot better.

Serial killers decided to take a long weekend too, and everyone had pleasant weekends. Derek worked on one of his houses, Hotch and JJ (along with Haley and Will) took their sons to the zoo. Rossi guests lectured as a favour for a friend, and Emily drank wine, watched movies, ate chocolate, and loved on her cat, Sergio. Penelope went to a drive-in movie with a firefighter, and spent the rest of her weekend in their bed.

Spencer called his mom on Saturday to chat, then read a book one of the officers from their last case had recommended to him. It was fairly interesting, if a bit shorter than what he preferred. Sunday morning after a too-long walk, he immediately made himself eat an apple. But his stomach was in knots and his head was swimming, and it came back up shortly after. The irony in that was crippling. He tried water and a couple crackers instead, and managed to keep that down. He waited a bit, then ate a couple more. He had work tomorrow, he needed to be able to function normally.

Monday morning, he weighed in at 130 pounds. He breathed a sigh of relief. But when he looked in the mirror, he looked the same as when he weighed 135.

_It’s just a measly five pounds. You should go for ten. 125 looked great on you._  
No, it would never be enough, that’s how eating disorders work. When he weighed 140 he wanted 135, when he was 135 he wanted 130. No.  
 _It’s not like you’re dropping under 120. 125 is a safe number, just five pounds_

When he got to work, Penelope had bought coffee for everyone. She knew all their favorite orders. She handed Spencer a heavily sugared cup, the whipped cream on top hinting towards the sweet add-ins that hid below.

“Oh my gosh, thanks PG!” He said enthusiastically.

“Anything for the good doctor,” she cooed, then turned to Derek with another cup. “And for you, my big hunk of bitter yet oh-so-sweet chocolate!”

_didn’t you just have a donut?_  
Yes, days ago.  
 _if you drink that, you’re just proving you have zero self control_  
Spencer took a long sip of the hot beverage.  
 _aaand there it is. Instead of losing five more, you’re just gaining them right back._

“Oh wow, does that have caramel in it?” Spencer asked.

“It absolutely does,” Penelope confirmed as she handed JJ her iced frappe. “I thought you might need that extra bit of pizzazz.” She said cheerily. “Do you like it?”

She was easy to read. She was worried he didn’t like it, that she had made the wrong call. He smiled brightly. “It’s really good, Garcia, I feel bad because I didn’t bring you anything.” I feel bad because I can’t accept a simple gift without overthinking it.

“Oh please,” the doubt cleared from her eyes. “You brought your cute self which is all I ask for.” One of her phones pinged, and she looked at it quickly, her face clouding as she read the notification.

Hotch appeared from his office then, expression ever serious. “Can everyone meet in the conference room.” It was less of a question and more of a demand.

“Oh…” Penelope’s small voice echoed everyone’s thoughts.

They had a new case.


	8. Chapter 8

The town they were sent to was small. Small enough that the seven (Penelope had to come for this case) of them filled up the local inn. They would have to share rooms. JJ and Penelope offered to bunk together, and Hotch told Derek and Spencer to share. Spencer expected Derek to argue it, but when he didn’t, Spencer found himself speaking up.

“Why not someone else?” He complained. “Have Rossi bunk with him.”

“Oh no, I’m past my bunking years. A man my age has earned his space.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong kid, you don’t wanna have a slumber party with me?” Derek asked, feigning offense.

“If it wasn’t deemed a no go by the Hotchman, I’d take you back to my room and-”

Spencer cut Penelope off before she made anyone gag. “You snore dude.”

“Oh is that right?”

Spencer nodded heartily. “Big time.”

Of course, that conversation changed nothing. Spencer was still rooming with Derek, and now he’d have to be ten times more careful to avoid exposing his… habits.

The case was boring, in comparison to some of their others. Just people being shot and stabbed, then stabbed and stabbed some more. The killer would then upload pictures of the bodies on the victim’s social media. It wouldn’t take much to find the culprit.

What did take ‘much’ was Spencer not having any time for three days. Derek knew what and when he ate, because of course they were sharing space.

On the first day, he skipped breakfast. Not too weird, lots of people skip breakfast. Rossi and Emily wanted to go out for lunch. He tried to turn them down, saying he wanted to work a little more on the case, but Derek was there, calling him out for missing breakfast, saying he needed to eat. That night Derek insisted they stop and get dinner before heading back to the inn. Spencer ate some, but managed to toss most of it when Derek was distracted.

The second day, Spencer made sure to eat breakfast within Derek's line of sight, so that when lunch rolled around, he could get away with saying he wasn't yet hungry. That night Derek offered to buy dinner again, but Spencer lied and said he had eaten earlier, on the way back from the morgue. He had been alone then, no one could prove him wrong. Derek commented on how Spencer walked around the hotel room wrapped in the duvet. Apparently it wasn’t even a bit chilly to him, but Spencer was frigid.

The third day, Spencer told Derek that he had eaten breakfast while he was showering, and left a dirty plate on the table for room service to pick up as proof. He wouldn't admit that he had put food on the plate, then promptly threw it away in a hallway trash can, to make things look just so. When lunch rolled around, he offered to pick up food even though he hated driving, and when he came back with everyone else's orders, said he ate his food while driving. Everyone got back to their rooms late, after having apprehended the unsub, and thankfully Derek seemed more interested in sleep than dinner. Derek tossed Spencer one of the blankets off his bed when he noticed that Spencer was still cold, but didn’t comment on it.

They were scheduled to leave the fourth morning. Spencer was feeling light-headed again, and figured a shower would help. He only stayed in for a minute, though, as the water made his eyes grow heavy. He couldn't afford to be passing out in showers. That would be a huge red flag. As he dried off, he noticed a bruise on his arm. He didn't remember getting that. Logically, he knew how bad that was. Emotionally, he felt a sick sort of pride that he was able to get this far again. He wondered how long it would be before he wasn't able to walk up stairs.

No, he couldn't let that happen. He had a job to do. Not being able to walk up stairs would be a bit counter-intuitive to not getting caught. Still, when Derek offered to buy breakfast, Spencer only agreed to coffee. He didn’t use the sugar packets he was given.


	9. Chapter 9

Two months later, Spencer stepped on the scale and felt equally giddy and shameful.

124 pounds. 56.2 kg.  
He broke his promise.  
Logically, when he looked in the mirror, he saw himself as he was. Underweight, all bone and skin, his cheekbones snug under the bags beneath his eyes. His elbows were pointy, he had a few bruises on his legs and arms, and his ribs were showing. Emotionally, when he looked in the mirror, he didn’t see much difference between his body now, and his body at 135 pounds.

No one said anything about his appearances as he walked into work. Maybe it was because he had lost the weight slower this time around. It was hard to tell subtle differences over time in people you saw frequently.  
_maybe no one cares_  
People shouldn’t expect others to notice minute details of others' lives without prompting. Everyone has their own lives and distractions.  
_keep going until they do notice, until Hotch pulls you into his office again_  
That was quite specifically what he was trying to avoid, so no.

“Pretty boy, I got a question for you,” Derek drew Spencer’s attention out of his own thoughts. “Me and Prentiss over there were talking about what makes relationships work for people with jobs like ours. JJ makes it work. What do you think?”

“I guess communication?” Spencer threw out. “In long distance relationships, the common factor for most break ups is that they feel like they aren’t connected enough. Communication and trust building is key to most any relationship, according to most marriage counselors.”

“See, that’s what I said!” Emily said, waving a file in the air. “Which is why the only relationship I’m in is with a little cutie named Sergio.”

Derek laughed. “I dunno guys, I still think that physical chemistry,” he gave a playful wiggle, “is what really keeps it goin’.”

“Oh, right, that’s why I haven’t heard about, what’s her name, Charisse, in so long?” Emily prodded.

“Hey now, I broke up with her.” Derek said quickly. “The chemistry wasn’t there.”

“That’s not what you said last week.” Rossi threw in as he crossed the room.

“Aaah, shaddap,” Derek laughed. “Didn’t you fail three marriages?”

_no one noticed_

Penelope popped up then, carrying a laptop in one hand and a phone in the other. “Hello my pretties, how are we this morning?”

“Not as good as you mama, what’s got the pep in your step?” Derek asked.

“Nothing. A date. A wonderful date with a smokin’ hot guy.” She spilled. “And let me tell you, Derek Morgan, I almost called out sick today to go for rounds three and four, but I am a professional and knew that would be wrong.” She said smugly.

“Woahhh Penelope, okay! Not sparing any of the details I see.” JJ laughed.

“What can I say, I’m just- oh man, really?” She cut herself, staring at her phone before switching to her computer, typing quickly. “No, guys… We got a case.”

Spencer and Rossi exchanged relieved looks. They weren’t as keen to hear any more about Penelope’s ‘date.’

Everybody piled into the conference room, and Penelope cleared her throat. “I haven’t had time to review this stuff, but I just forwarded everyone the information we have right now. Reid, your’s is printing so make sure to grab it on the way to the jet.”

“Strauss had this one expedited through me, sorry guys, I know we’re going in a bit blind, but we can read up on the plane.” Hotch explained.

Penelope continued. “This one isn’t going to take you guys far, just a hop and a skip over to New York. Looks like women are being kidnapped, held for a few days, tortured- oh goodness- then left in dumpsters. Uhhh, preliminaries think they died of dehydration, well two of them, one of a potential heart attack?… None of them have clear ‘this is what did it’ injuries though, so they doubt it’s directly related to any torture injuries.” She fumbled around with her laptop for a moment before continuing. “There have been three victims. First was, um, two weeks ago, second was one week ago, and the most recent was just found last night.”

“No signs of acceleration yet, but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen.” Hotch commented. “Let’s have the wheels up in 30.”


	10. Chapter 10

On the plane, they read more on the case. Other than all being female, the three victims didn’t appear to have any physical similarities. The first victim was Harriet King, 38 years old and tall. She was last seen a week before her body was discovered. The second victim, Linsey Pollman, was petite and blonde. She was missing for five days before her body was found. The latest victim, Penny Tracher, was a dark hair 26 year old, missing for six days before being discovered.

At that rate, it was likely the unsub was already hunting or holding his next victim. The geological profile, including last known whereabouts, victims homes, and the disposal sites, spanned a large portion of urban and suburban areas, not making things easy. The killer definitely had transportation, and was able to blend into society.

Economic status wise, King was a well off business woman, but Pollman and Tracher were both sex workers. King was likely the ‘important’ kill, while Pollman and Tracher were victims of opportunity.

“Reid and Prentiss, you two head to the morgue please. JJ and Rossi, I need you to interview Pollman’s roommate. Morgan, you and I can set up at the PD. Garcia, I want you to dig into King’s history, see if we can find anything useful. She’s the victim that will tell us where to look.” Hotch directed.

“My nose is buried in info, Sir, and I will not disappoint.” Penelope assured him, then hung up.

“Hey guys, is anyone else interested in the torture application?” Spencer asked. “I mean, initially it could read as sexual sadist, but looking at the actual wounds inflicted, I don’t think that’s the right conclusion. It reads as more frustrated, the lack of release as opposed to the cause.”

“No stab wounds, no broken bones, just semi shallow cuts or bruising from being hit with something.” Rossi agreed. “There’s some genitalia mutilation, but it’s all postmortem, no signs of anger excitation behavior.”

“There’s hesitation marks on King, but they aren’t present by the time he gets to Tracher, so sexual or not, the unsub’s definitely getting more comfortable with inflicting these wounds.” Emily supplied.

“Look into that more at the morgue, you two. See if they have the COD yet as well.” Hotch said.

They landed shortly thereafter, and everyone split up to do their respective jobs.

At the morgue, Dr. Dobre already had the bodies pulled out for Spencer and Emily to look at, and a report printed up for them to read over. The initial assumptions for the causes of death were all the same.

“There’s no such thing as ‘dying from exhaustion,’” Dr. Dobre said, wheeling his wheelchair around to Spencer’s side of the slab. “But I’ll be damned if this don’t come close. Heart attacks or failure, all of them.”

“Karoshi.” Spencer said, thumbing through the report.

“What?” Emily asked.

Spencer looked up, as though surprised at Emily’s question. In truth, he had just been talking to himself. “Uh, ‘karoshi.’ It’s a japanese phenomenon, translates to ‘death by overwork.’ The term came about in the aftermath of World War Two, when Prime Minister Yoshida was pushing to rebuild Japan’s economy. While his plan did work, employees who worked long hours were pushing themselves too hard, and eventually died from the stress of work and sleep deprivation. While eventually measures were taken to help prevent that from happening, there are still cases to this day.”

Emily gave a small “Huh,” and nodded. “That’s why asian people are stereotyped to be married to their work, I guess.”

“Well, we might not be in Japan, but I think that word applies here. These women were all very dehydrated, and had all been sleep deprived while in captivity.” Dr. Dobre said.

Emily and Spencer didn’t have to stay long; everything they said before seemed to line up with the report.

“Just out of curiosity, have you had any male bodies turn up with similar injuries?” Spencer asked as they headed for the door.

“Mm, not at my morgue.” Dr. Dobre said. “But I’ll let you know if any turn up, sonny.”

“Can you check your records for any young male strangulation victims as well? Really any unsolved suspicious circumstance deaths would be helpful, if you could fax a list over to the police department. Just throw my name on it and it’ll get to me.”

Dr. Dobre quirked an eyebrow. “I’ll see what I can do for you.”

Spencer thanked him and followed Emily out to the car.

“What was that about?” Emily asked as they climbed into the vehicle.

“I don’t want to push a profile too early, but I might have an idea of what we’re looking at here.” Spencer said. “I’ll tell everyone when we get to the PD.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT / TRIGGER WARNING  
> I tagged it in the work tags, but I wanted to reiterate;  
> The next few chapters deal with Severe internalized and external homophobia  
> Thank you for reading and be well <3

The profile was something they had unfortunately seen many times before. The team exchanged information, and it became clear fairly quickly.

The unsub was approaching women to proposition them, but when he was unable to perform, he lashed out and blamed them. He’d take them hostage and cut or hit them when they were unable to make him sexually excited. The issue with that, of course, was that this unsub didn’t have an attraction to women, and his (likely conditioned by a parental figure) homophobia against himself caused him to lash out at these women.

The killings were likely triggered either by a relationship with a woman failing to gratify him, or by him ‘succumbing’ to his homosexual urges. If he did have a sexual relationship with another man, it was likely that that was his first kill, not Ms. King who he likely attempted to date, and they were working to identify who that man might have been.

There was only one gay bar within the kill zone, and while the only known victims were women, the unsub could be killing women after each encounter at said bar. It wasn’t a strong theory, but it was something to consider.

Spencer was reading through the coroner reports Dr. Dobre had compiled for him. But he was reading slower than he usually would, distracted by an ache in his stomach and dizziness in his head. It was still faster than most other people, though, so the team didn’t take notice. Spencer took a second to remember when the last time he ate was. It had been too long, especially since he was on an active case. He tried to not go more than a day without eating on active cases, but by this point he was on day three, the last thing having ate was 3 ounces of baked skinless chicken and half an apple. Not great.

He stood up to go get something to eat, only to have his legs give out from under him. Thankfully he was the only person in the room, and stood up as quickly as possible, black dots invading his vision.

“Are you okay?” A young officer asked, coming into the room quickly. “I saw you through the window, are you hurt?”

“No, no I’m fine I’m good.” Spencer reassured her. “I just, uh, have a headache.” A really poor excuse, he knew, but it’s all he had at the moment.

“I can get you some water.” The officer offered.

“No it’s okay, really. I was going to the break room anyway. Just, did anyone else see?” He asked.

“I don’t think so, sweetie.” She said. “No one from your team saw, at least. They’re either gone or in Sheriff Georgie’s office.”

“Okay, alright.” Spencer’s vision finally cleared up enough for him to be confident enough to walk. “If we could keep this between us…”

“Sure, I guess. I have some Tylenol if you need it?”

Spencer couldn’t think of a good reason to say no, so he accepted. He took the meds and left to go to the kitchen, which was thankfully empty. He grabbed some leftover takeout Rossi had bought from the previous night and ate it without bothering to warm it up. He needed it right then, and the microwave would be too damn slow.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know how realistic this situation would be, but i needed bisexual undercover agent reid so that's what we're getting :)

They had a suspect. A man named Jared Thomson. His mother died when he was 8, and since then his father had a history of drunken disorderlies and hospital records for Jared showed signs of abuse. According to what JJ and Rossi heard from a bartender at the gay bar, Jared was actually a regular there since a few weeks prior, although he never really spoke to anyone. He just drank and watched people come and go. They found records of him having been in contact with Ms. King, the first victim, but not enough to hold him. Coincidentally, Spencer found one coroner report of a gay man, Diego Swindle, in his twenties discovered in an alley nearby the same bar right before Ms. King went missing, strangled, and it had never been solved.

Penelope looked into missing persons reports, and found that two other men had gone missing from that same bar, although those bodies had never been recovered. Each man’s disappearance/death correlated closely before the abductions of each woman.

But it was all circumstantial, and they needed proof.

It was an officer who suggested it.

“Don’t you guys do undercover work sometimes? Why not one of you go in the bar and hit on ‘im, see if you can get ‘im to talk while drunk.” He said.

“We try to avoid sending our people into dangerous situations unnecessarily.” Hotch said firmly.

“He may have a point,” Spencer said later when it was just the team in the room. “Today’s Thursday so we know for sure he’ll be there, this might be a good opportunity for us to get close. Even if we can’t make the arrest we’ll likely get intel that could lead us to one quicker.”

“It could keep his body count from rising.” Derek agreed hesitantly.

“Do you think you can do it?” Hotch asked Derek.

He furrowed his brow. “I mean, I can try. I’m not sure-”

“That won’t work.” Spencer interjected. “You’re too imposing, he wouldn’t want to risk getting in an altercation with you. His male victims have all been smaller than he is.” Spencer took a breath to mentally steady himself. He knew this was coming the minute the subject was brought up. “If anyone will have luck it’ll be me.”

“No offense kid, but you can barely flirt with women, I don’t know how you’ll do faking it with another dude.” Derek said.

“Actually, statistics show that men of any orientation are usually easier to impress than women in the initial attraction phase. Some neuroscientists believe is has to do with-”

Derek interrupted him. “Alright, see, that right there is part of it. You don’t want to throw him off with your genius brain.”

“Really? I’ve found that men tend to respond better to my intellect in flirtatious conversations more so than women.” Spencer said, confused.

It was silent for a long two seconds.

Then Emily spoke. “That’s so weird, you think men would be into less talk and more action.”

“Oh, lots are. I just mean in my experience. I’ll likely be able to gauge his interests more after seeing his physical mannerisms. Even if I end up not saying anything of substance, I do fit the physical profile of being shorter and slighter than him. Machismo is actually interestingly portrayed in gay communities, some men intentionally try to look less masculine in order to appeal to a sort of ‘alpha’ partner. It’s not represented in all queer relationships of course, but the engrained idea of a traditionally masculine partner and feminine partner is an ideal partnership for some men of alternate lifestyles because of compulsory heteronormativity, which is definitely what this unsub is going for due to his deep rooted issues with his sexual identity.”

“My cousin Toby, he’s a big guy, and he’s always dating around with these skinny little fellas.” Rossi commented after another brief quiet moment. “So I see what you mean about that.”

“I’m sorry, are we just gonna gloss over that?” Derek said impatiently. “Did you just come out to us Reid?”

Spencer tried to stifle his slight panic. No one here was homophobic, he knew that. But he also didn’t want to make it a thing. “Well, JJ knew.” He mumbled.

“I didn’t.” Derek replied.

“Well, now you do. Does it matter? Hi I’m Spencer, I have 3 PhDs, am 28 years old, and oh yeah, I’m bisexual.”

“Of course it matters.” Derek replied, and the half gentle, half surprised tone he used made Spencer’s hair stand on end. He hated it.

“Reid, I want you to be there before the unsub arrives, but I don’t want you to approach him until after he’s settled in, and I want you to ease in, get his guard down. Can you do that?” Hotch interrupted the uncomfortable moment, and Spencer was relieved.

“No problem.”


	13. Chapter 13

Spencer went back to the hotel early to get ready. He wasn’t exactly sure how he was supposed to look to catch the unsub’s attention, but he figured he’d do his best with what he had. And by ‘what he had,’ he meant running to the store to buy pants because none of his fit in a flattering way (constantly fluctuating in weight didn’t lend itself to clothing shopping). One of the employees recommended a ‘skinny leg’ black pant for him, and although he felt a bit silly in them, the employee was certain they looked great, so he paid up. At the hotel, Spencer took a quick shower before blow drying his hair, which made it curl up, and added a bit of product to make it stay. He usually just let his hair air dry, but when he did the work, it really looked different. He almost considered putting it in a ponytail, but decided that leaving it down would make his jaw look a bit less severe. He put on a dark purple button up, and rolled up the sleeves. He was putting on his socks when a knock came at his door.

Spencer opened the door, and Derek was there, wearing an obviously sheepish expression. It changed into one of surprise when he saw Spencer, though. “Wow, you clean up nice.” He said. “What, did you put something in your hair to make it do that?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” Spencer asked coolly, leaning against the door.

“Right, listen, Reid, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for being weird earlier, okay? It’s just, you really surprised me, and you being, y’know, was something I thought I would’ve profiled off you, or even just known from knowing you.” Derek said.

_you also haven’t profiled that I have an eating disorder, but whatever_  
“Bisexual is the word you’re looking for.” Spencer said.

“What?”

“Bisexual. You said ‘and you being y’know.’ Is there a problem with saying it?”

Derek shook his head quickly. “No, no. I don’t care if you’re gay or straight or bisexual or whatever. I just don’t get why you didn’t tell me sooner. You told JJ, but not me?”

“Well to be fair, I’ve never been on a date with you.” Spencer joked.

“Yeah, I guess not.” Derek laughed. “Okay, well I just want to make sure that you know that you can tell me things, alright? I care about you man, and I don’t want you to have to feel like you need to hide things from me.”

_ihaveaneatingdisorderihaveaneatingdisorderihavean-_  
“Thanks Morgan.” Spencer smiled. “I just don’t want you guys to treat me any different. I’m still me, it’s just that you know now.”

“Isn’t weird to you if I keep calling you pretty boy?” Derek teased.

“I think it’ll still be equally weird.” Spencer assured him, chuckling lightly.

“Good because you are lookin’ more like a pretty boy than ever tonight.” Derek pulled out his phone. “Let me send a picture to PG, she’d love to see you in those pants.”

_please don’t take a picture of me that’s the last possible thing i’d want i never look good in pictures and these pants are just way to hugging_  
Spencer smiled at the camera, bringing up a hand in a little bashful wave.

“Alright, get those shoes on hot stuff, you’ve got a murderer to hit on.”


	14. Chapter 14

The bar wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t slow either, people coming and going and milling through groups. Spencer sat alone sipping a weak drink, so he didn’t look suspicious with just water. Since the Hankel/dilaudid incident, he tried to avoid drinking, since one addiction can easily lead to another, so he took it slow, barely making a dent in his glass. His long hair hid the earpiece he had in, and Penelope had hacked into the video cameras so the team could see everything. Jared had come in about half an hour ago, and was already on his second strong glass. He was abruptly struck with severe self doubt as to why he ever thought this would work. He wasn’t attractive enough to spark the suspect’s interest, and he had absolutely no ‘game,’ as Derek put it… He shrugged the thoughts out of his head as violently as possible. It was too late for second guessing. Spencer waited until Jared ordered his third glass to move in, sliding into the seat next to him.

“Hi, mind if I sit here?” Spencer asked in a friendly tone. Jared glanced at him and gave a noncommittal shrug. “What are you drinking?” He asked, trying to engage him.

“Whiskey, neat. The only way to go.” Jared replied, looking straight ahead.

Spencer leaned toward Jared slightly. “Ah, I couldn’t handle it neat. I have to cut it with soda. My tolerance is just too low.” He faked a giggle, and heard Emily wolf whistle in his earpiece.

Pretending to be tipsy got Jared’s attention. “My name’s Jared. You here by yourself?” He asked. 

“I’m Spencer. I was going to meet a friend, but they never showed.”

“Some friend. It’s not safe, y’know, being intoxicated when you’re alone.” Jared said.

“Statistically, a guy like me is safer at a gay bar than a regular one,” Spencer said, making sure to slur his words just a little. “But either way, I’m not alone now, right? I’ve got a big guy named Jared to protect me.” Spencer batted his eyelashes, something he has never done in his life, and put a hand on Jared’s leg.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting information out of him?” Rossi commented in his ear. Someone shushed him, and Spencer allowed his amusement to add to his flirty, tispy expression.

“So, you think you’re safer with me huh?” Jared said. By then, he had finished his third glass and was already calling up a fourth. He also ordered Spencer a highball, and Spencer couldn’t find a way out of accepting it.

“I watched him mix it, you’re safe to drink it.” Rossi said.

Spencer wasn’t worried about being drugged. He was worried about actually getting tipsy. He was underweight and almost never drank, not to mention he was here on an empty stomach, so even one strong drink could impair him.

Spencer took a small sip. “So I guess you know about that guy that was found awhile back, huh?”

Jared wasn’t good at hiding the way he tensed up. “Everyone in town knows about that.” He said, attempting to sound blase.

“Did they ever catch the guy?” Spencer asked, trying to feign simple curiosity.

“Nahh,” Jared took a long drink. “No way... He covered his tracks.”

Come on. Even drunk, he had to know that sounded weird. Spencer took another sip of his drink. “Such a shame… Y’know, I’m not from around here. I’m here for a few more days, then I’m headed back to Vegas.” Of course home was the first place to pop into his head for the fib. The second two male victims had been out of towners, which explained why the deaths weren't immediately linked to the first.

“Yeah? What are you here for?”

“I had an interview, but I don’t think I want the job. It wasn’t a... stimulating position.” Spencer thought he heard someone in his earpiece choking, but he ignored it. Sure, it was a bit embarrassing to say this stuff with his coworkers slash friends listening (or even just say it in general), but sometimes you have to do what you have to do.

And it did the trick. Jared abruptly swigged the rest of his drink, and turned to fully face Spencer. “How about you and I get out of here, huh? I live just a street away.”

Spencer smiled and faked another tipsy giggle. “Sure.”

To Spencer’s surprise, they barely turned the corner before Jared was on him, kissing him hard and fast. Jared’s hands were wrapped tight in his hair, and Spencer fluttered his hands for a moment before resting them on Jared’s chest. He heard Hotch say something in his earpiece, and knew that the team was about to intervene. But they didn’t have anything to use against Jared yet. Thinking quickly, he said, “Slow down, we’re not in a rush are we?”

Hotch got the message, and Jared thought Spencer was talking to him. “You don’t like it rough, baby?” He said in a deep, husky timbre. Spencer was relieved he wasn’t given a chance to reply before Jared’s lips were on his again, because he would have had no idea what to say. He tasted strongly of whiskey.

Spencer pushed his hips against Jared’s, trying to cause him to lash out by 'taking away' some of his control in the situation. It only worked the second time, when Spencer tugged Jared by his belt loop and caused them to rut into one another. The effect was instantaneous. Jared pulled away quickly, moving his hands from Spencer’s hair to his neck.

“Don’t do that, I’m not a fucking f**,” Jared said sharply, his intoxication making him stumble over his words.

“You’re making out in an alley with another man.” Spencer pointed out. That wasn’t a smart move, he immediately acknowledged, because Jared tightened his hands around Spencer’s neck. Spencer scrambled to grab onto Jared’s hands, tugging to try and catch his breath. “Are you going to kill me?” He wheezed out. “Ch- oke me to-” Spencer coughed, “death l- like Diego?”

“Why not? You’re both filthy queers. World’s better off without-” Jared suddenly cut off, eyes wide, his grip loosening from around Spencer’s neck in shock. “Wait, how the hell do you know that?” His grip tightened, and he slammed Spencer against the wall. “Who told you tha-” His sentence was cut off by one Derek Morgan, who tackled Jared to the ground with a hard, audible 'thump' while he was caught off guard. Spencer was yanked forward slightly by the momentum, but the surprise had caused Jared to let go.

The second his neck was free, Spencer slumped down to the ground, taking deep breaths, expanding his lungs as far as he could before blowing out between aborted coughs. JJ and Hotch were there, checking on him, helping him up.

“I’m fine, I’m okay,” Spencer insisted, his voice hoarse. They still had him checked out by the paramedic, who cleared him with only a warning to ‘take it easy for awhile.’

Jared yelled and fought while being shoved into the police car by Derek and Hotch, both stone faced and quiet. Spencer thought, for not the first time, how he'd never want to be on the receiving end of their joint anger. 

"We should have engaged sooner," Hotch said when he and Derek got back to where Spencer was sitting.

"What? No, the very last thing he said was the most important-"

"But it put you at risk." Hotch cut him off.

Derek spoke then, as though trying to diffuse a fight before it started. "How's your neck?"

Spencer reflectively brought a hand up to his own neck, rubbing gingerly. "Bruising and swelling, but nothing that won't heal." He assured the two.

Derek, however, didn't seem assured. He still looked angry, like he wanted to punch someone (a specific someone), as he often did in cases where someone he was close to got hurt. Spencer gave him a quick little smile, trying to convey that he really was fine. The tightness in Derek's shoulder's dissipated by a small fraction, and he pulled out his phone to call Garcia.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N; not story related-
> 
> hey guys, i meant to post this yesterday but a lot has happened in the last 24 hours. it likely won't impact the rate at which i post thankfully, but i figured i'd just let you guys know in case further developments change that. what it comes down to is that i was robbed. im completely okay, and i still have my phone/laptop, but i'm having to jump through hoops with my bank and car company right now :/
> 
> but the brightside is that writing this fic definitely helps me take my mind off all the craziness in my real life, lol

“You can’t use that recording against me.” Was the first thing Jared said when Rossi and Morgan sat down across the table from him. “I know my rights, I didn’t consent to be recorded.”

“No,” Rossi agreed, “but it did give us probable cause to search your apartment.” He slid a picture of bloodied clothes in a waste bin across the table. “You want to make this easy and tell me whose blood that is?”

They went round and round for some time, before Jared slipped up and revealed inconsistencies in his alibis and excuses.

Spencer wasn’t really paying attention. He kept disappearing to the bathroom to wash out his mouth in between pieces of minty gum. He had brushed his teeth about five times that night, and an equally excessive number of times that morning. He couldn’t stand the thought of a trace of Jared’s tongue in his mouth.

Emily asked him if he was okay after his third trip to the bathroom. He limitedly admitted how he felt to her. She took him out for lunch at a little greek restaurant, at which point Spencer realized exactly how hungry he was.

"Tastes better than whiskey and homophobic tongue, right?" She joked as they dug into their gyros.

"Definitely." He agreed. He didn't feel guilty about this, relieved to feel and taste something else in his mouth.

"You know Spence, you didn't have to do that." Emily said after a minute. "I won't lie and say it wasn't extremely helpful, but you shouldn't have had to out yourself for a case. That's a really personal thing, and you shouldn't have felt pressured."

Spencer quickly reassured her. "It's okay Emily, really. It wasn't a big secret or anything, I just never really brought it up. Besides, I knew you guys wouldn't treat me differently because of it."

Emily nodded thoughtfully. "Alright, well, I wanted to tell you, since you came out and all," she cleared her throat, "I figured I should do the same."

"No way." Spencer laughed lightly. "You're into girls?"

"A hundred percent." She smiled. "Looks like sexual orientation is a doozy to profile, huh?"

"Well, some people wear it as a part of their identity, but us? Yeah, I guess so." Spencer said.

"Speaking of being subtle… You had everyone in shock with you last night."

"Really, why?" Spencer asked, even though he was pretty sure of what was coming.

"The way you came onto the unsub! We figured your flirting with men was about the same as with women, but I gotta say, you were steaming it up in there." Emily gushed.

Spencer gave a nervous chuckle and ducked his head. "I was pretty out of my comfort zone. Really, I was just copying what I've heard other people say, and what was appropriate to progress the situation. I was sure I sounded ridiculous."

"Don't be modest, Garcia almost had a fit when you put your hand on his leg and Morgan choked on his water at the 'stimulating position' bit." Emily said brightly.

"Please stop," Spencer groaned, a delicate blush spreading across his cheeks. "It's mortifying to think about."

"Are you kidding? I'm pretty sure everyone who heard that line filed it away for their own future use."

"As long as it isn't credited to me."


	16. Chapter 16

In the end, they managed to pin six murders on Jared Thomson, and the team was able to head back to Virginia by day’s end. Rossi invited everyone out for drinks, and Spencer was swept up in the rest of the teams resounding agreement.

It was easy to get around drinking, it was a silent understanding among the team in reference to his past addiction, so no one questioned his diet soda. He tried not to consume things with aspartame in them too frequently, but for tonight he decided it would be okay.

Pretty soon Penelope and Emily were drunk and loud, and Rossi was chatting up the bartender. Hotch left early to put Jack in bed, and Derek and JJ were throwing darts. Spencer watched a small group of people play a couple rounds of pool, and quickly figured out a few different sequences of plays needed to win.

When the group cleared out, he called over Derek and JJ. “Either of you guys wanna play?” He offered innocently.

“Oh buddy, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself in for.” Derek laughed.

“I’ve seen him play, there’s no way,” JJ laughed. “He almost got into a fight with- what was his name, Josh?”

After a couple minutes, the balls were gathered, and Spencer let Derek break. Spencer’s first couple of hits were clumsy, but he knew that if he could just focus and aim, he could win. Derek let his guard down as he took an early lead, which gave Spencer the opening he needed. He sank three balls in one hit.

“Woa-oh-oh, okay, now how’d you do that?” Derek asked, impressed.

“Let me guess, this game’s just all one big equation,” JJ said.

Spencer grinned. “Yeah, essentially.”

He won in two more turns, and JJ laughed loud enough to draw Penelope and Emily’s attention.

“What’s goin’ on over here? You guys being fun without me?” Penelope asked, using Derek as something to steady herself on.

“Spence just wiped the floor with Derek.” JJ explained, motioning to the pool table as evidence.

“No- no wayyy,” Emily slurred. “Let me try, I’m- I’m great at pool.” She stumbled on her way to try and take Derek’s poolstick.

“I think gravity’s already beating you, Em,” Spencer stifled a laugh.

“I think it’s about time you ladies get home,” Derek suggested, patting Penelope’s pink cheek. “I can give you guys rides, if you want.”

“I can take Emily,” JJ offered. “She lives closer to me.”

“Mm, my tall dark roast coffee with extra sugar is gonna be my knight in kevlar armour and get the lovely, voluptuous, and slightly impaired, princess back to her castle safely, isn’t that right?” Penelope said without pausing for breath.

“That’s right princess, your chariot awaits,” Derek played along.

Spencer followed closely behind. “How does she do that while intoxicated?” He wondered allowed.

“My mind is an enigma, ‘punzel,” Penelope replied.

“You wanna ride in the backseat with her?” Derek asked. “I can take you home too.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

The ride to Penelope’s apartment was interesting to say the least. She insisted on listening to early 2000’s pop music, singing along and serenading the two men in turns. She commented more than once on how Derek was bald while Spencer’s hair was longer than ever (deciding that ‘rapunzel’ was a perfect nickname to maintain). She mentioned dying her hair red again, only to immediately switch to mentioning a bottle of blue dye she had yet to open.

“This is it.” Derek said when they pulled up to her complex. “Can you make it from here baby girl, or do you want me to walk you in?”

“Oh please, I’m- I’m fiiine,” She waved the two off, but stumbled hard getting out of the car.

Derek started to turn off the engine, but Spencer said, “I got her, don’t worry.” He climbed out and held Penelope’s hand, his other hand steering her by the elbow.

“Oh, such a gentleman, it makes me swoon,” Penelope said. “You and I’d make super tech and book genius babies if we got together, you know?”

“You think so?” He said as he held the door for her.

“Oh, definitely. Our kids would be, like, supreme overlords or something,” She said, nodding at her own fantasy. “Ohhh, but you and Derek’s babies would be super strong and super smart, and we already know how perfect a Penelope-Derek swirl would be.” She said dreamily. “If there was a way we could cram three people into one new little people, that’d be the perfect speck- spessy- specimen.”

“Well let’s revisit that when the technology is available for public use,” Spencer said placatingly. They arrived at her door, and when she got her keys out of her purse, Spencer unlocked it for her. Penelope thanked him in a bizarre way that was only fitting for her, and Spencer made sure she locked the door behind her.


	17. Chapter 17

_Spencer,_

_I’m so happy to hear that your coworkers responded well, though I told you ages ago when you first started that they would. And even if they didn’t, then you could always get them fired for discrimination. People take such accusations very seriously these days. Nurse Laina got fired for malpractice because she wasn’t taking proper care of the indian woman down the hall! Everyone’s becoming more sensitive these days, but you were always a delicate boy. All this talk reminds me, did you know a boy named Trenton Malloway? Maybe not, he didn’t seem the intellectual type, and was a few grades above you if I’m not mistaken, but I had the opportunity to speak to his grandmother the other day when she was here visiting her sister, and apparently he’s recently come out as gay! Who would’ve thought one could still ‘come out’ well into their thirties? Well, I’ve always believed that true love transcends physical form._

_In other news…_ *

The letter continued, but Spencer wasn’t focused as he skimmed his mother’s questions and escapade stories. He was very much absorbed in his own childhood memories of Trenton. He, along with a long list of other names, was someone that Spencer didn’t want to think about, someone who made his time in high school a living hell. It was cliche, he knew, the scrawny brainiac, bullied by the stronger upperclassmen, but the addition of having a mentally ill mother he had to care for and the large age discrepancy, the amplified toll on his still-developing mind had been excruciating.

Trenton was a particularly horrible offender. He was one of the boys in the front of the pack when he had been tied naked to a goalpost. He had bullied Spencer into doing his work for him and helping him cheat. He had locked Spencer in a supply closet, only to be found after school ended by the janitor. He had tormented Spencer for two years, until he graduated. Of course, there were others, many of which he remembered the names of and exactly what they did. But he always buried it all, trying his hardest to put up a strong defense against the memories in his mind, only vaguely referencing overarching themes, never specific events, a careful balance of using his experiences to be better at his job, and not letting his past distract and disable him.

But his name was brought up, and with it the memories of Trenton’s specific offences. In opposition to who he really was, Trenton had always had a friendly face (when he wasn’t scowling, sneering, jeering, or taunting), and Spencer, still young and unknowing of highschool culture, had sat next to him in the lunchroom on his first day, and attempted to befriend him.

Needless to say, the attempt did not succeed. That was the first time Spencer had ever been called ‘gay’ in a derogatory fashion, the first time he had been hit, and the first time he felt the need to lie to his mother about where he had gotten an injury from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * - i have her full letter if anyone is interested in reading it for some reason. lots of juicy elder lady gossip. i'll reply to comments asking for it (i respond to all comments anyway, but you know what i mean lol)


	18. Chapter 18

Spencer got down to 119 pounds (54 kg), a new lowest weight, before anyone said anything. And the moment one person said something, everyone was saying something. Derek asked him if he was feeling okay and seemed to constantly be nearby, Penelope spontaneously gave him a gift basket, and Emily asked him if he’d like to cat sit for her one weekend, a job normally reserved for Penelope (when he got there, Emily had left out three books on her coffee table with his name on them as a gift). Rossi invited him to his house for dinner, Hotch asked him if he needed a couple days because he looked ‘worn out.’ JJ brought him coffee with little hearts drawn on the lid, which he admitted was cute, and invited him over to babysit Henry anytime (she claimed it was because she and Will wanted to go out, but in correspondence with everything else it was a bit on the nose.)

The real question was, did they suspect he had an eating disorder, or did they just think he was terrible at taking care of himself? Now that he thought about it, he realized he did look a bit homeless, with long tangled hair, baggy clothes, and bags under his eyes. He figured the least he could do is get a haircut.

So he called up Penelope and agreed to something she had been begging for practically since they met. Something he never expected to relent to. “Hey PG, do you wanna go with me to get my hair done? I don’t really know what to do with it, I think it’s getting too long.”

She lost her shit, for lack of a better phrase. She was shouting into the phone for him to come to her apartment as soon as possible, and that she knew a hairdresser who could be there in three seconds flat. And so Spencer took the metro, and was at Penelope’s before he could regret his decision.

The hairdresser was a gothic woman named Lola, who Penelope claimed was her ‘sister from another mister.’ Spencer was pushed into a chair in front of a mirror in the middle of Penelope’s living room.

“Oh, yeah, the middle part has got to go,” Lola said, fluffing and tossing his hair around.

“That’s what I said!” Penelope exclaimed, before quickly turning it around. “Not that the middle part looks bad, you look so so cute, but what if you just-” she flicked a large amount of his hair to the opposite side it was on- “-oh yeah, boy genius or boy cuteness, you tell me.”

“Do you care if we go short, honey?” Lola asked.

“I don’t know if I have a say,” Spencer joked, but Penelope quickly and seriously confirmed that he, in fact, did not. “Just don’t do anything too crazy.” He said.

The two women talked throughout the entire process, changing their minds twice after having already started cutting, which did not bolster Spencer’s hopes that it would turn out well, but the end result was surprisingly fine. His hair still held some length to it, coming up off his shoulders but lengthy enough in the front to frame his face. It was parted a little to the side, the heavier side threatening to let some of the hair fall in his face.

“You look good enough to eat,” Penelope said dreamily.

“Have you considered doing modeling?” Lola asked. “I know an agent who would just eat you up.”

_that’s hilarious, a model??_  
“No no, I think I’m happy with the job I have now,” Spencer said quickly before she could force a business card onto him. “But thank you for the cut, it looks great.”

“Of course it does, she does my hair too you know,” Garcia gushed.

“Yeah, when you’re not doing it yourself.”


	19. Chapter 19

Over a short time, Spencer gained weight up to 123 pounds again, and blamed it on his coworkers. But that was okay, because he knew it was a good thing, no matter what his disordered thinking tried to convince him of. He needed to put on weight. What was not necessarily a good thing was how, over a similar space of time, Derek had started play flirting with Spencer, in the same fashion as he did with Penelope. The main difference was, Penelope was fast with the comebacks, while Spencer just sort of… pretended like it wasn’t happening. ‘Pretty boy’ was something he had gotten used to, but ‘hot stuff’ and ‘dreamboat’ were newer additions, not to mention the ‘curly-Q’ and ‘mop top’ references to his hair.

At first Spencer didn’t even notice.  
“Hey playboy, save some coffee for everyone else.” - _right, sorry, here._  
“Whenever you’re done flirting with the nurse, hot stuff.” - _just grabbing a copy of the report…_  
“Hey good lookin’, the vic’s house was clean so tell me you found somethin’.” - _wh- uh, actually i did, i’ll show you guys when you get to the station._

Then it started becoming more apparent.  
“Are you comin’ with me and the others tonight, or do you have a steamy date you’re hiding from me?” - _oh, yeah, i just- i mean no, i don’t, i’m just tired, figured i’d turn in early…_  
“Since when do you wear skinny jeans? I mean, I won’t complain about the view, but I didn’t think that was your style.” - _since you sent that picture from the Jared case, and JJ and Garcia overturned my wardrobe._  
“Baby girl I’ve got you on speaker, but it’s just you, me, and Reid, so if you wanted to talk about that three-way you mentioned last week, now’s the time.” - _i’m sorry, the What now?? ___

__It wasn't that there was anything inherently wrong with it, and it's not like Derek was constantly hitting on him, but Spencer was known for being a bit socially awkward, and these interactions were no different. Logically, he knew Derek was likely just trying to have some harmless fun, or maybe even overcompensate for trying to not appear homophobic (which Spencer didn't think he was in the first place). Emotionally, Spencer felt like Derek was making fun of him, equal parts for being bisexual and for being unattractive, as if it were okay to pretend flirt with him because it was something that could never possibly happen for real. Spencer had considered approaching Penelope about it, just to ask if she knew why there was the change, but remembered how terrible she was about spilling things to the rest of the team. Spencer decided he wasn't quite ready for a gaggle of profilers to psychoanalyze this particular situation._ _

__Which is all to say, that's how Spencer found himself saying "Maybe next time big guy," when Derek threw out an innuendo about the two of them pulling an all-nighter. Spencer was immediately certain he'd never refer to Derek as 'big guy’ again. He bulldozed into an overly detailed explanation of tides and currents, and how they affected their ongoing case, vehemently ignoring the chuckles and playful looks exchanged between the people present and the blush on his own cheeks. More than anything else, he refused to look in Derek’s direction, mortified thinking about what his reaction might have been._ _

__Surprisingly, despite Spencer’s own embarrassment-fueled paranoia, no one brought up what happened, and he started to relax, allowing himself to acknowledge that it probably wasn’t as big of a deal as he was making it out to be. It was just a harmless joke._ _


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N; PLEASE READ
> 
> hello guys! just popping in with a quick little update before the big weekend one to say hello and ask a quick question! since you guys have been so amazing i wanted to ask your opinion about a certain aspect of the story that is upcoming.
> 
> i changed the tags today to reflect the fact that spencer will be in a relationship with an original male character in the future. this will happen before he and derek figure their shit out and get together, lol, but i wanted to know how you guys felt about that. sometimes original characters can disrupt the natural flow of a story, and break immersion. 
> 
> the original character, if im being honest, is mostly a plot device for me so if you guys are against it i can absolutely try my hardest to work it to where they aren't as involved as i originally wrote it. they aren't part of the bau, and spencer meets them through a mutual friend (emily). without spoiling too much, this character is the cause of a critical series of events that affect spencer very deeply (whump. it's whump, guys.)
> 
> as in all my writing, i try very hard to create a believable world that readers will enjoy, and while i truly believe this original character could propel the plot in a very interesting and engaging way while still keeping it organically 'criminal minds-esque', i don't want to turn off readers who would prefer to stick to canon compliant main characters, especially considering my own preference for universe-typical characterization and events.
> 
> PLEASE tell me what YOU think! i'm relying heavily on your feedback going forward with the current planned plot, and want to write something you will enjoy. 
> 
> thank you so much for always continuing to support and inspire me as we dive into this story together <3 <3 <3

118 pounds, new lowest. Lost way too quickly and without his usual precautions.

“Reid?!”

_fuck-shit-sonofa-_

“I’m fine I’m fine, gogogo!”

Spencer passed out in the middle of a pursuit. JJ had rounded to cut the guy off up ahead, while Derek and Spencer were hot on his tail. Spencer had felt fine throughout the day, but when he started running, his vision suddenly went dark and he collapsed. He only lost consciousness for a split second, immediately shouting for Derek to keep moving. He tried to get up, but a wave of dizziness landed him back on his rear. 

_if they don’t catch him it’s going to be my fault, what have i done…_

He got up again, using the alley wall for support, and started heading the way Derek went. Hooking a left turn, he saw a scene that eased his worry. At the end of the strip, Derek was shoving the cuffed suspect into the back of a police car, JJ close by speaking to an officer. Spencer closed his eyes and leaned hard into the wall, exhaling heavily in relief. By the time he cracked his eyes back open, Derek was jogging toward him.

_fuuuuuuck_

“Reid, what happened back there?”

_i don’t remember the last time i had more than watermelon and trail mix_  
“I’m okay, I just blacked out for a second.” He tried to reassure Derek, pushing off the wall, but his voice came out weak, having the opposite effect.

“Yeah, I got that, but-” Derek cut off as Spencer started swaying, grabbing him to keep him steady. “What the hell’s goin’ on with you, man?”

_i need water_  
“I need water.” Spencer said.

“Yeah, okay,” Derek’s voice was soft, worried but soothing. “Hotch should be pulling up real soon, and there should be some water bottles in the back, alright?” Derek started guiding Spencer toward the road, where the police car was pulling away.

“What happened?” JJ asked when she saw the way Derek was supporting Spencer.

“We need a paramedic, he just faint-”

“No, no I don’t need a doctor.” Spencer interrupted, pushing away from Derek without any real force. “I just need some water, and to lie down for a minute…”

_if they get medical attention, i’m screwed. i’m so malnourished they’ll have me hooked up to an IV for ages._

“Spence, if you passed out then you need to get look-”

“I said no, okay?!” He cut JJ off angrily. Hotch was pulling up then, and Spencer popped the trunk to rummage through a bag to find water. “I said I’m fine. I know more about my own needs than you do, alright?” He slammed the trunk (albeit weakly) and climbed into the backseat.

“What’s going on?” Hotch asked, watching through the rearview mirror as Spencer cracked open the water bottle and practically chugged it.

“Nothing, JJ and Morgan are just…” He trailed off as the two got into the vehicle, JJ in the front and Derek in the back.

The ride back would’ve been silent, if not for the fact that JJ and Morgan had to give Hotch a rundown of the night’s events. Spencer was tuned out, staring out the window, his own thoughts loud in his head.

_you jeopardized your teammates and almost let a serial killer get away because of your lack of responsibility and inability to perform basic tasks for survival, like eating, all because your disordered brain tells you to, even though you are supposed to be some sort of intellectual, who you would think would be able to overcome such an obviously unhealthy compulsion, but no, you’re so weak that you’re letting it interfere with your work, the one thing you’ve tried for so long to prevent, and now-_

“Reid?” Hotch’s voice cut through his clouded thoughts. “Is that true, you refused to seek medical attention?”

_and now this._  
“Yes,” he said impatiently. “Because it’s pointless, I already know what they’re going to say. Drink water and get some rest. I haven’t been sleeping a lot, and I was dehydrated. I’m sorry that I didn’t take better precautions, but-”

“I don’t want to hear ‘but’s, Reid. I want to hear what you’re going to do to change things, because for the past few months, your well being has been declining. I know you don’t want me to do this, but I will put you on mandatory leave if that’s what it will take for you to get yourself together.”

Spencer clicked his jaw and said nothing in response, anger radiating off of him in waves. Derek put a hand on his shoulder, as if to calm him, but all it did was make Spencer feel like a child.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Thank you guys so much for your wonderful feedback!  
> I'm so happy you guys took the time to read and respond to my last post. In accordance with the majority of the comments, I intend to go ahead with the previously planned story line.  
> Just as a heads up, there are a couple more updates before the character is introduced, so in the meantime, please enjoy some fluffy light angst before the storm! <3

120 pounds.  
_how sad, gaining weight just so your boss doesn’t yell at you_

Hotch didn’t make him take a mandatory leave, but he did tell him that if he caught Spencer so much as blink in an off way, he’d be out for a week. Spencer didn’t know which was worse; that, or the continual concern JJ and Derek deposited on him. They kept what happened from the rest of the team, but between the three pairs of eyes, Spencer felt suffocated. JJ invited him over to visit Henry (which he accepted, because even though it was just a way for her to keep an eye on him outside of work hours, he did like visiting Henry), and Derek insisted on driving him to and from work (which Spencer insisted was unnecessary, but Derek threatened to call his mom and tell her what was going on, and that was a worst case scenario).

_28 years old and you need three babysitters._

“Hey curly.” Derek greeted him through the rolled down car window one morning, tipping his sunglasses down and smiling brightly as Spencer walked towards the car.

Spencer self consciously pushed a lock of hair out of his face in response to the nickname, and gave a subdued “good morning.”

Derek waited until he was buckled in, and peeled off the curb, a suspicious smile on his face. “Guess what you and I are doing today?”

“Um, going to work?” Spencer questioned.

“Nah man, I got us the day off,” Derek said proudly, the mischievous look in his eye apparent even through dark shades.

_great, an entire day of being stared at like a wounded animal.  
….. shit, i’m going to have to eat with him too._  
“Come on, Morgan…”

“Nope, too late now, you’re stuck with me, Sherlock.” Derek tapped the GPS mounted in his car. “We have plans, and you are going to like it whether you want to or not.”

It turned out that Derek was right, because although Spencer was originally inclined to have a horrible day no matter what, he did enjoy himself almost enough to forget why they were taking this day in the first place.

They drove for at least thirty minutes before Derek stopped at a little bakery that served fresh baked goods, and they had a late breakfast (they had decadent handmade croissants, and Spencer almost melted into his chair at the first bite) before heading to an oddities and antiques shoppe, where Derek knew the owner’s niece. Spencer and the owner, an old man with hardly any teeth but keen eyes, talked for ages about different items displayed behind the counter, and Spencer found an original copy of a book he had been looking for, along with an odd looking toadstool figurine that Derek had pointed out for a chuckle, but that Spencer had taken a liking to. Derek insisted on paying for the items, since he was the one who invited Spencer out, and found a couple decorative pieces he said he could use in his most recent renovation project.

Their next stop was a historical art museum, where Spencer excitedly ranted about the various artists and their ‘monumental contributions to the evolution of art.’ At one point, a museum employee actually asked Spencer to quiet down because he was getting too animated, and immediately after Derek almost got them kicked out by laughing so hard a tear escaped the corner of his eye. They left pretty quickly after that, not wanting to cause an even bigger scene, and Derek suggested that for a late lunch they try a new restaurant that had opened up a couple weeks ago. It was a bit of a drive, and Spencer was twitchy about being cornered into eating again, but he found something on the menu he thought he could stomach, and genuinely enjoyed his meal.

Derek started rushing Spencer through his last few bites, admitting that they were on a schedule for ‘one last thing’ he wanted to do. Spencer pushed his plate away, more than happy to not finish, and Derek paid. The drive was long and quiet, but the sort of comforting quiet that settles when words aren’t needed to express one’s contentment. When they parked at the building, it was a bit hard for Spencer to tell what it was right off the bat.

“Is this… A performing arts center?” He questioned, brow knotted.

“I guess so, something like that.” Derek confirmed, gesturing across the parking lot towards where the main entrance was.

“Oh, are we going to watch a show?” Spencer asked, smiling and earnest. “I haven’t gone to a performance in a while, and I haven’t been to this theatre before.” They rounded a corner then, and the large signs framing the main entrance came into view. Spencer came to a standstill. “Oh…”

“I remembered you saying that you liked Saint-Georges, and that you’ve never heard his compositions live, so…”

“Derek, this was so thoughtful of you, when did you get the tickets?” Spencer asked.

“Oh, I knew a guy who knew a guy, it’s no big thing.” Derek shrugged.

“But you don’t like this sort of music, you didn’t have to go out of your way-”

“Woah there dummy, I didn’t do anything out of the way. And I’ve been known to listen to a bit of classical music on occasion.” He insisted.

“Name one single Tchaikovsky piece.” Spencer deadpanned.

Derek gave him an ‘oh please’ look. “Isn’t… that the dude who did Swan Lake?”

“Underappreciated in it’s time,” Spencer confirmed, choosing to ignore the way he had just called Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky _’dude’_. “I went easy on you, everyone knows Tchaikovsky. I could give you a few more examples, along with an explanation as to why his work is so significant, but…”

“Buuut if you keep talkin’, we might miss the beginning, so come on.” Derek snickered playfully.

Spencer was captivated throughout the entire performance, only talking during the intermission to explain to Derek the story behind the sequence of pieces being performed (without referencing the pamphlets given to them at the start of the show). Afterwards, Derek offered to take Spencer to dinner before heading home, but he adamantly declined.

_if i’m forced to eat three whole meals in one day, i’m gonna be sick_  
“It’s been a long day, I’ll fall asleep at the table before our drinks get there.” Spencer insisted. Almost as proof of Spencer’s statement, he did fall asleep during the ride back to his apartment, only waking up when Derek gently shook his arm.

“Come on pretty boy, if you’re gonna sleep, why not do it in your bed?” He said in a soft voice. Spencer unravelled from the tight ball he had knotted himself into, stretching his long legs. Derek got out once he was sure Spencer was really awake, and walked around to open the passenger door for him, holding a bag with the things he bought in one hand and wrapping the other around Spencer’s shoulders when he got out of the car. He walked Spencer to the door, during which time he was able to fully wake up, and handed him his bag.

“Did you have fun?” Derek said in a voice that hinted no doubt that he knew the answer was ‘yes.’

“You’re the one who told me I had to whether I liked it or not,” Spencer reminded him. “But no really, thank you. I just feel bad because we didn’t do anything you like, I just ended up dragging you around, how did Emily put it that one time, a ‘nerd-fest’.”

“No, man, come on, you know I wouldn’t do shit I didn’t want to do.” Derek said, shaking his head. “Besides, I know you needed a day to decompress. You’ve been lookin’ like a ticking bomb lately.”

_and there it is._  
Spencer smiled. “Yeah, well, you know me.” He made a dramatized expression and laughed lightly. There was a single awkward beat. “Alright, well, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Actually I have tomorrow off, I have a couple appointments so I can’t drive you, but I’ll see you the day after, okay?” Derek explained.

Spencer wasn’t sure why, but he felt a bit crestfallen at that. A lot of a bit.  
_it’s because he needs a break from you after being smothered all day._  
“Oh.. Alright, then I’ll see you then.” He gave another small smile and entered his apartment building.


	22. Chapter 22

122 pounds.  
 _you had pastries for breakfast yesterday, what did you expect?_

When he walked into work the next day, Penelope and JJ were giggling between themselves, which wouldn’t have been odd if not for the fact that they cut off as soon as Spencer walked through the door.

“Hi Spence,” JJ said in a playful tone, her face twitching to hold back a grin.

_i don’t even know what i did for them to be laughing at me_  
“Uhh hi?” Spencer said, giving a quick, tight lip smile and one sharp wave.

“So how was your date yesterday?” Penelope prompted. She looked like she was practically vibrating with energy.

_date?_  
“Date? It wasn’t a date. I was just hanging out with Morgan.” Spencer explained.

JJ stared at him blankly and Penelope sounded like she was about to have an asthma attack even though she didn’t have asthma. “It wasn’t a date.” She intoned, then crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, shifting her weight to one hip. “Okay then, what did you and Morgan do while you guys were ‘hanging out’?”

“We went to an antique shop, a museum, and went to an orchestral concert.” Spencer said quickly. “I don’t see why you guys are making a big deal out of it, we all hang out outside of work sometimes.”  
 _but we don’t all request days off to do so_

“Okay, did you go out to eat? Where’d you go? Who paid?” JJ questioned.

“We went to a restaurant that just opened up, Derek paid but he said it was because it was his idea to go out. I think I’d realize if I were on a date.” He said defensively, hand tight on his messenger bag’s strap.

“Oh, my sweet socially inept baby boy,” Penelope said, scrunching up her nose and taking one of his hands in hers. “Would you though?”

_Derek would literally never date me, and that’s a delusional narrative to try and push._  
He looked between the two women. Their expressions were a mix of amusement, pity, and something akin to fondness. No. No way. Right? Sure, he wasn’t amazing at social cues or reading the room but... And he was pretty certain that Derek wasn’t… He could feel the heat in his cheeks as his face turned pink. “That- I was- I mean- Date?!” His voice cracked at the end, rising a good few octaves that only further accentuated his shocked confusion.

Before either of them could respond, Hotch and Emily walked through the door, swapping paperwork and talking quickly. Hotch barely glanced at the three of them as he said “New case, conference room.”

“It’s not pretty,” Emily sighed, her wide eyes betraying her feelings on the case already.

Any extracurricular thoughts went out the window when Hotch presented them the case. Babies, little one year olds, were turning up dead; smothered. The preliminary profile pointed to a delusional parental figure trying to either replace a lost child, repeat the events of a traumatic event, or have something they never had.

"Morgan will meet us there tomorrow morning, and Rossi will join us on the jet. I want wheels up in ten." Hotch dismissed them, and everyone hurried to get ready to leave (apart from Penelope, who instead raced down to her lair to preemptively pull up anything she thought the team would need to get started on the case).

Spencer compartmentalized his confusion about Derek and his worries about eating; he could come back to all that when children weren't dying on his watch.


	23. Chapter 23

“Keep the focus on Maddie, talk about things she likes and dislikes, how much she’s loved, anything to humanize her to the unsub. Tell them thank you for taking such good care of her, but it’s time for her to come home now. Stress that you know they’d never hurt her. It’s imperative that you don’t villainize the unsub, or they may panic and start to devolve.” Hotch coached the parents of the most recent missing baby.

JJ was fuming, as cases with babies and children always left her, but she tried hard to keep it under wraps as she addressed the cameras. “Now Maddie’s parents asked to say a few words. Mr. and Mrs. Donavan?” 

The two did well, all things considered, and while it would be a waiting game to see how effective the press conference was, Spencer could still work on the geographic profile in the meantime.

“What are you thinking, Ptolemy?” Rossi asked, peering over Spencer’s shoulder.

Spencer gave a small huff-like laugh through his nose at Rossi’s joke before responding. “I’m not sure. All the children were abducted from this area,” he motioned to the map, “but were found out here,” another wave of his hand. “Two distinct zones, so either the unsub is killing them where they’re found, en route, or in a third location we haven’t yet discovered. Their organization and compulsion to operate in distinct stages leads me to believe that the last option is most likely, which is troubling because that will also be the hardest to pinpoint. It essentially doubles the area we have to look at.”

“I don’t think we’re going to be able to find this guy by mapping it out,” Derek said. “I still think our best bet is narrowing down the list of names Garcia put together.”

Rossi shook his head. “The parameters are too wide. We just need one more detail, something about this unsub that’ll be our ‘a-ha’ moment.”

Spencer agreed, but didn’t like the implications that came with that. “I just don’t want it to have to come at the price of Maddie’s life…”

“Hopefully what the parents are doing right now will prevent that,” Derek said, only half believing his own words.

Then the phone hooked up to the number the parents gave on the news to call rang.


	24. Chapter 24

The phone rang only seconds after the interview wrapped up, and Spencer stared at the phone, his mouth forming a little ‘o’ of surprise. It was the best case scenario, one they didn't see often enough. They had to act quickly and carefully to use this to their full advantage. Derek was already on the phone with Penelope (bless her for always picking up so quickly) telling her to set up a trap and trace. Rossi shushed the two other officers who were in the room and on Derek’s signal, answered the phone.

He answered on speaker. “This is Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi with the FBI BAU, may I ask who’s calling?” He asked in a calm, even tone.

The line was quiet for a long moment, besides the sounds of rustling and breathing. Then a woman’s voice came through the phone, quiet and gentle. “Maddie is such a sweet little thing…”

“Yes she is,” Rossi agreed. “And her parents miss her very much. Why don’t you help them reunite with their little girl?”

The line was quiet again, but they heard a shushing sound and a child’s babbling in the distance. One of the officers slipped out of the room to tell Emily, JJ, and Hotch what was happening, and they came back in quietly, JJ silently encouraging the mother to speak.

“H- Hello?” Mrs. Donavan asked, choking up.

“She likes the park.” The woman said. Spencer whipped around to the map, and pinpointed three parks between the abduction and disposal sites.

Mrs. Dovanan sobbed. “Yes, Maddie- Oh God…” She lurched toward the phone. “Please, please I need my baby girl, please give her back to me-”

“Babies need strong parents,” The woman said, sounding tired, as though she had said this too many times. “They need to be protected.”

“You’re the one putting Maddie in danger!” The father burst out.

Derek, who was still on the phone with Penelope, pointed to one of the parks Spencer had indicated on the map. That was where the call was coming from. Hotch nodded, and he, Derek, Spencer, and Emily left as quietly as they could, leaving JJ and Rossi with the parents.

“No, no. Maddie is safe with me.” Spencer could hear the woman saying as they headed out.

It didn’t take long for them to get to the park, but the issue was that it was a large park, with two separate playground areas and a ball court further down near a few trails.

“Spencer, Emily, check the play areas, Derek, the trails,” Hotch instructed, and they split up.

It didn’t take long for Spencer to find the woman. She was likely in her late 30 to mid-40s, and looked every bit the doting mother with her child. What tipped Spencer off was a phone in the grass at her feet, and the blanket wrapped around the baby. It was the same one that had gone missing with Maddie.

“Guys, I’ve got her, move in slowly. I’m gonna try to talk to her,” Spencer said quietly, and holstered his gun slowly after seeing that the woman had nothing that could be used as a weapon. “E- excuse me?” Spencer addressed the woman.

Her head shot up, and she stood from the bench she had been seated on, scurrying a couple steps away. “What?” She asked sharply, holding the baby close to her chest.

“My name’s Dr. Spencer Reid, I’m with the FBI,” he said in a soothing voice, holding his hands up in a placating manner. “Is that Maddie?”

She looked around, as though making sure she wasn’t being surrounded, before turning back to Spencer and nodding.

“May I see her?” He asked. “I won’t take her from you, I promise, I just want to check on her, make sure she’s okay.”

“Of course she’s okay,” the woman replied, voice as soft in person as it was on the phone. “I’m taking such good care of her, my sweet baby…”

By that point, Spencer had managed to close some of the distance between them, and the woman shifted Maddie slightly so that Spencer could see her. She was sleeping, breathing calmly, and Spencer was relieved they got there quick enough. He could see Emily then, approaching from behind, and Hotch and Derek in the distance.

“Do you have any children?” Spencer asked, trying to provide himself a distraction.

“Oh yes,” the woman said sadly, staring at Maddie and rocking her gently. “I’ve had lots of babies. Just babies though…” She looked up at Spencer again. “No mother should have to see her babies die. It’s not- not natural.”

“I agree, it’s the saddest thing in the world,” Spencer said. He was close enough now, and Emily was right there… “Which is why I have to return Maddie to her parents now.” He said. Before she had a chance to respond, he had grabbed the baby, carefully but fast and efficient, and Emily grabbed the woman when she tried to fight back, screaming and howling.

The commotion woke Maddie, so while Emily and Derek escorted the woman to the vehicle, Spencer lagged behind, bouncing her and trying to calm her down. Hotch called JJ to let everyone know what happened, and to send Maddie’s parents down to get their daughter.

“You’re a natural,” Hotch said after a few quiet moments.

Spencer had managed to calm Maddie down. She wasn’t asleep, though, alert eyes looking all around. She was still small enough that one could cradle her, but big enough to mostly support her own weight.

“You think so?” Spencer asked, wiggling his finger that was trapped in her grip.

“Oh definitely.” Hotch confirmed. “And not just Maddie. I don’t have to tell you how much Henry likes you, but Jack really does too.”

“Wow, Jack?” Spencer smiled.

“Sure! You know last time you were over, and you told him about how solar systems are made? Well, now he’s convinced he wants to be a ‘space scientist.’ Had me buy him books and everything.” Hotch laughed, eyes crinkling in the corners.

“In order to go into astrophysics, he’ll need to focus on math and science at school. Doesn’t he hate math?” Spencer questioned playfully.

“You never know, this could be his big turning point.” Hotch joked back, and then nodded across the way towards the parking lot, standing up. “There are the Donavans.”

The reunion was tearful and moving, Mr. Donavan and Mrs. Donavan able to breathe properly again for the first time since they lost their little girl. Mrs. Donavan grabbed Spencer up into a painfully tight hug, thanking him over and over as he handed over Maggie.

It made Spencer think about how he wanted kids one day, but it was a bittersweet thought.  
He wanted kids, but he couldn’t trust himself to take care of a child if he couldn’t take care of himself.


	25. Chapter 25

After the jet landed, and everyone started saying their goodbyes, Spencer stopped Derek.

“Uh hey can we talk for a second?” Spencer asked, keeping his voice low.

“Yeah pretty boy, what’s up?” Derek turned and leaned against the doorway, unintentionally yet effectively trapping Spencer in the room alone with him.

Spencer had planned out a few different ways to bring it up. He had rehearsed lines in his head, trying to figure out which ones would work best to be nonchalant and vague. What came out of his mouth was none of those things.

“Did you take me on a date?”  
 _well fuck, that wasn’t exactly what was supposed to happen_

“Did I what?” Derek asked incredulously.

“Y’know what, nevermind actually, I’m just gonna-” Spencer went to slip out through the door, but Derek caught his arm and made him stay put.

“Hold on there Spencer, you said you wanted to talk.”

_yeah, i did, now i don’t. crazy how that works._  
“It’s nothing, just… Garcia and JJ said something that made me think… I don’t know, it seemed like a date.”  
 _that was and continues to be painful to live through…_

Derek, to Spencer’s surprise, laughed.

_laughing because of the notion of it being a date_

“Those two, I swear, when they get in a room together some shit always happens.” Derek said, shaking his head. Spencer was feeling dumber with every word out of Derek’s mouth. “I’ll be honest, I hadn’t thought of it as a date. Is that what you thought it was?”

“No! No, JJ and Garcia just confused me, that’s all,” Spencer explained.

Derek started walking out of the room, waving on Spencer to walk with him. “Yeah well, I breathe near someone and Garcia starts planning my wedding with them, so don’t feel bad.” Derek joked. “She’s probably just trying to get at a super-strong super-smart Morgan/Reid baby out of us.”

“Oh yeah, she told me about that." Spencer recalled her drunken excitement. "She said all three of us would make a 'perfect specimen.'"

"That girl is crazy,' Derek chuckled.

"What girl?" Penelope said, popping up right as they were about to go through the door to leave.

"You, babycakes," Derek said with a bright smile, pulling her close to his side by her waist. Spencer felt a weird pang of jealousy, which made no sense considering he was not a very physical person and had never in his life wanted Derek to grab him anywhere remotely like that. "So tell me why you and JJ are starting rumors about me and Spencer?"

<>i do Not want to be stuck in an elevator for this  
Spencer followed Penelope and Derek onto the elevator, hitting the first floor button.

"Oh come ooon, you took him on a date, you know it. I wanna know how you got out of _work_ for it." Penelope whined.

"Hotch wanted playboy to take a mental health day 'cause he'd been working himself too hard. I went along to make sure he used it right." Derek explained.

_'Guess what you and I are doing today?'  
'Um, going to work?'  
'Nah man, I got us the day off.'_  
Sometimes Spencer really hated his better than average memory.

"Pardon moi?!" Penelope exclaimed, rounding on Spencer. "I've told you, you have to stop bringing work home." She positively pouted at him.

_well lucky for you, it's not actually work related._  
Spencer smiled sheepishly. "Sorry Garcia, it's hard not to, you know?"

"That's it, I'm forwarding you my entire 'cute baby animals' image collection, and I'll be expecting a comprehensive report on it's contents by the end of the week." She said, miffed. Spencer couldn't help the small laugh that elicited. Penelope always had that effect on people around her. "And as for you, Derek Morgan. There's only one way to settle this," Penelope lightly punched Derek's arm. "You have to take me on a date next. And we have to do whatever I want."

"Baby girl, it would be an honor," Derek said as they stepped off the elevator.

Spencer went to sleep that night feeling a fool, angry at himself for ever even entertaining such a notion, and mentally swearing to never let his imagination take over the reality of the nature of his relationship with Derek; coworkers, friends, but never anything more.


	26. Chapter 26

125 pounds.

 _you can go lower_  
He wouldn’t go under 125 this time. 125 was fine.

Not that it mattered when he couldn't help throwing up what little was in his stomach.

"I think I'm dying," he said dramatically, his trembling voice adding a nice touch to his pity party.

"Go to the doctor before you get everyone else here sick," Emily deadpanned from her station outside the bathroom door. "I'll drive you, just don't chuck in my car."

"It's fine, it's just the flu, I just need-" Spencer cut off to lean over the toilet bowl again. He felt twitchy, face hanging over a public use toilet. He'd definitely need a scalding hot shower when he got home. "I just need some antiinflammatories and decongestants."

"And an antiviral _prescription_ , which means going to the _doctor_." Emily said impatiently.

Spencer had walked into work feeling fine (a bit lightheaded, stomach in knots, freezing cold; the usual), but a couple hours into the day he had run into the bathroom. Emily had followed him, and since then he'd thrown up three times (mostly bile and water, but no less unpleasant for it). JJ and Strauss were out with the flu, so everyone else at work was being hypervigilant to avoid catching it. Spencer didn’t know how he managed to come down with it.

A heavy hand on his shoulder caused him to tense up a bit. He opened his eyes and lifted his head off the stall wall. Rossi was standing behind him.

"Come on kiddo, you think you're done?" He shrugged, but then nodded. He was pretty sure he couldn't throw anything else up even if he tried. "Alright, can you stand?" Rossi asked, and Spencer nodded again, getting up slowly. Rossi placed one guiding hand in the middle of his back and led him out of the bathroom.

Emily started to swoop in, but Rossi waved her off. “It’s alright, I’ll take him. I don’t have anything to do right now anyway,” he said leadingly, knowing that Emily’s desk was buried in files.

Spencer would never not be grateful for the fact that he didn’t throw up in Rossi’s car on the way to the hospital. Rossi told him to sit while he got them checked in, and Spencer told him his doctor’s name to see if she was available. Overall, it went smoothly, Spencer getting his prescriptions with limited trouble, although the process would’ve been much quicker if he could have just filled it himself. Everytime he had to go to the doctor and be told things he already knew, it made him more inclined to get doctorates in medical fields.

Rossi offered to take him to the pharmacy to pick up his medications, but Spencer declined. “They won’t be in until late this afternoon,” he explained. “I know one of the pharmacists there, I can ask her to bring it over when their shift ends.” Of course, that was slightly illegal and Spencer wouldn’t do that, but Rossi didn’t need to know that.

When Rossi pulled up to his apartment complex, Spencer thanked him for his help, got inside, and promptly passed out on his couch for the next five hours.

-

The knock at his door was a surprise. A bigger surprise was that it was Derek, holding his prescriptions.

“Hey, how’d you get that?”

“Hey there dummy, I know your birthday and address, and have a shiny FBI badge to seal the deal. Now, are you gonna let me in?” Derek asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“I don’t want to get you sick,” Spencer said through the head-width crack in the door.

“I’m not gonna get sick, Reid. Open the door or I’m gonna force it.”

“Don’t kick in my door, my landlord will get mad.” Spencer only half joked, relenting and allowing Derek into his home. He accepted the bags of medication, immediately popping one open and dry swallowing it. He went into the living room while opening the second to get his glass of water to wash them down.

“You didn’t have to get those for me,” Spencer said between sips of water. “I’m not an invalid.”

“Or you could say, ‘thank you Derek, for being so helpful’.” Derek countered. “Pen asked me to give you this, too,” he said, holding up a lidded bowl and going toward the kitchen. “She said it will, and I quote, ‘scare away the sick with spice,’ so good luck with that.”

Spencer gave a small laugh that was quickly followed by a dry cough, and settled back onto the couch, wrapping up in the comforter he had taken from his bed.

“Man, your fridge is empty,” Derek noted as he put the bowl in Spencer’s fridge.

Spencer tried to recall exactly what was in there. Eggs, some fruit, a chocolate bar, condiments, take out leftovers from a few days ago… okay, maybe Derek had a point.

“Yeah, I just haven’t been to the store,” Spencer said nonchalantly as Derek made his way into the living room. It wasn’t a lie; it just omitted the fact that his fridge always looked like that.

“I can make a run for you,” Derek offered, glancing at Spencer’s stuffed floor-to-ceiling bookcase.

“It’s fine,” Spencer replied quickly, suddenly feeling self conscious about the state of his house. It wasn't really dirty, just a bit unkempt. _like me._ “I can’t really keep anything down right now anyways. I’ll go when I start feeling better.”

"Are you running a fever?" Derek gestured toward the large blanket Spencer swaddled himself in.

"In all likelihood."

"You mean you haven't checked?" Derek asked in disbelief.

"I actually don't own a thermometer, but I had it taken when I was at the doctor. It's fine, I've been staying hydrated and sleeping, it's just another part of having the flu." Spencer said.

“Spencer… You know it’s okay to ask for help…” His thought trailed off as his phone beeped. Derek looked at it for a long second, and when he looked back up, Spencer knew what it was.

“A case?” Spencer more so stated rather than asked. Derek nodded.

Spencer got up and started putting stuff in his messenger bag. “Woah woah woah, what do you think you’re doing?” Derek stopped him. “You aren’t coming, not while you’re this sick.”

“What am I supposed to do, just stay here and sleep while everyone else is on the case?”

Derek stilled Spencer’s flurried movements, hand loose but firm on his arm. Spencer ignored the fluttering his stomach that was so different from the queasy tossing he was used to. “Yeah, that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do. That’s how being sick works. JJ is stuck at home too.”

Spencer looked around as though he were lost. "I can't just sit here," He looked back to Derek, eyes big and pleading.

They had a short stare-off Derek responded by sighing dramatically. "I’ll send the case info to your email, but I ain't printing shit."

"Done, deal, I can do that." Spencer agreed quickly. He had a printer that he could maybe figure out how to use, after he located his likely dusty laptop. "Call me with updates!" Spencer said quickly as Derek left.

"We'll see, pretty boy."

Spencer practically fell back onto the couch when Derek was gone, exhausted but oddly cheerful. He would never admit it, but he did like being taken care of, sometimes. Practically his entire life, he had to care for himself, so it was nice to have someone else do it every now and then.

He would also never admit that he was starting to think maybe he liked Derek's nickname for him, despite knowing that it was born out of sarcasm and didn't _really mean_ anything.


	27. Chapter 27

The unsub profiled as an ‘Angel of Death’ who believed they were ‘cleaning up the streets.’ The murders attributed to them included two prostitutes, a drug addict, and most recently a graffiti artist, who lived a much lower risk life than the other three victims and was the cause for the FBI to become involved. Each had been shot once, stabbed once, clean and efficient. The bodies were then disposed of in back alleys and dumpsters, near where they were killed. The victims seemed to be random, all 'caught in the act,' so to speak.

Spencer insisted that he be allowed to work on the geographic profile from home, and although Hotch shot him down, Derek and Penelope still fed him information over the phone. He had a map tacked to his wall, using markers instead of pushpins so he wouldn't damage his wall, and when he wasn't throwing up or passing out on the couch, he was studying the map with a twisty straw hanging out of his mouth leading to a water cup.

That was when he discovered an anomaly in the pattern.

“Hey Garcia, I need the names of the Sheriff and Deputy Sheriffs please. And any administrative employees, and see if anyone else’s work records deal with patrol route planning and send their names as well.” Spencer said quickly, scribbling hurried lines through different streets and alleys.

“I can and will deliver all that you ask of me,” Penelope assured him, and within minutes Spencer’s printer whirred to life- Penelope had faxed them, even though Spencer was pretty sure he had never told her he even owned a printer, much less even known the fax number himself. He quickly read all the employees’ files, then called Derek.

“Hey are you at the station right now?” Spencer asked, speaking fast enough to stumble over his words. He coughed dryly.

“Yeah, me and Emily were going to give the profile when Hotch and Rossi got back.” Derek said.

“Don’t.” Spencer replied. “Can you get in a room alone, or go outside for a minute?” He asked.

“Sure, one minute,” Derek said something to a couple officers, and left the station, climbing in his car. “Okay, I’m all ears.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to deliver an accurate profile. I know we always consider officers as suspects in cases like these, but I think this time it’s a partnership between two officers.” Spencer gestured to the map as though Derek could see it before remembering he was alone in his apartment. “All the killings happened between patrol routes, but still near enough for the officers to discover them during those routes, so our unsub is most likely an officer or secretarial employee with access to all the routes.”

“Okay but how would that make it a duo? One guy could pull that off by themselves.” Derek said.

“Because one of the murders occurred _during_ a route. It would be easy to assume the officer had already passed the location the crime took place, but if you factor in the traffic rates during that time frame and the averages from prior runs on that route, there’s no way the officer could have gone through that area, meaning they either passed a dead body hanging halfway out of a dumpster that was meant to be spotted and didn’t say anything-” here Spencer paused to cough hard enough to make his ears pop- “-or they were present while the crime was taking place. I’m sending you the route number, and I need the name of the officer who ran that route that night and the timestamps for when they left the station and when they got back, along with any reports they filed that night.” Spencer was starting to feel dizzy, and sat back down, rubbing his temple. “I have a list here I had Garcia send me of who our unsub could potentially be. I’ve narrowed it down to two of the deputy sheriffs and one of the record keepers, but I’ll need Garcia to do a more thorough background search to be sure.” He was out of breath, and felt like the room was rocking around him. He was definitely getting worse before getting better.

“I’ll let Hotch know what you figured out. Tell Garcia what you need her to do, but let us handle the rest, okay kid? You sound like you’re about to pass out, and running that mouth of yours isn’t going to help.” Derek said.

 _Running my mouth is what’s helping you solve this case_ Spencer thought, but couldn’t disagree with Derek. He _did_ feel like he was going to pass out. Spencer had most definitely not slept as much as he had implied he would. But Derek didn’t need to know that. “I’m fine, I’ll lay down after I call Garcia back, okay?”

Derek agreed, but sounded heavily suspicious, and hung up. Spencer got back in touch with Penelope and told her what was going on, and asked her to tell him anything she told the rest of the team. She agreed, but told him the same thing as Derek; that he needed to make sure to sleep.

“Also did you eat the soup I had Derek bring you?” She asked.

 _no, i ate half of it, threw it back up, and dumped the rest down the drain. not because it tasted bad, but because eating sounds like literal torture, and i’d know because i’ve been tortured._  
“Yeah PG, it was really good. Thank you.”


	28. Chapter 28

121 pounds.  
 _being sick has its perks_  
 _wait, no, what happened to not dropping below 125?_

With the information Derek passed along from Spencer, the case wrapped up quickly, and before long the team was headed back to Quantico. Meanwhile, Spencer started feeling better, well enough that he started feeling hunger cues again, and actually regretted throwing away Penelope’s soup. Instead he snacked on trail mix, not quite trusting the age of his takeout leftovers. He didn’t need to go to work until the day after tomorrow, and he wanted to get back up to 125 before then. It was hard to even think about, but he had to stick to his promise to himself.

He thought he could probably get back up there just binging on trail mix.

There was a knock at his door, quick little raps, and Spencer could guess who it was.

“Hey PG, what are you doing here?” He said, surprised. She was a refreshing sight, if Spencer was being honest. Holed up sick for half a week wasn’t a fun way to spend one’s time.

“Are you still contagious?”

“Uh, I don’t think so-” Spencer was cut off with a little ‘oof’ as Penelope yanked him into a hug.

“I brought you goodies!” She said when she pulled away, showing off the bags hanging from her arms.

“I see that, thank you… Why?” Spencer asked as she unloaded onto his kitchen counters.

“Derek mentioned you didn’t have much to eat, and that you were going to go shopping when you felt better, but I just felt so bad because y’know, you need _food_ , and I know what you like, of course, so…” She started pulling items out and showing them off for Spencer’s approval.

She got basics, like bread, peanut butter, tofu (she had forgotten in the moment that she was shopping for someone who wasn’t vegetarian), and some veggies, but she also got ‘Spencer Snacks’, as she called them. These included salt and vinegar chips, a tin of lollipops, frosted pretzels, and a box of tea leaves. Spencer was pretty sure he couldn’t remember the last time so much food was in his apartment, eidetic memory or not.

“I also got everything we need for….Tikka masala!” She said excitedly. “Oh, you don’t mind if I cook you dinner, right? I just saw a sign in the store and I just-”

“Of course you can, thank you so much,” Spencer said, smiling.

“Oh. Well, good. Because I was going to anyway.” Penelope said, nodding as though to herself.

They started putting the groceries away, and afterwards Penelope taught Spencer how to make a vegetarian tikka masala. Spencer, the terrible cook he was, mostly just watched, snacking on the pretzels Penelope had bought for him.

 _snacking right before a big dinner?_  
He hadn’t eaten properly in a solid three days, was severely underweight, and was showing appreciation for a gift. So yes, snacking before a _very normal sized_ dinner.

While they waited for the food to finish cooking through, Penelope looked around Spencer’s living room, complimenting his curtains and the little figurines in his bookshelf. There was a gargoyle, small enough to fit in her palm, the bronze colored toadstool he had gotten with Derek, and a petite hourglass. He had done some cleaning since Derek had been there, so the dust was gone and the books were straightened. He had washed and put his comforter back on his bed, and had fluffed the couch cushions so it wasn’t obvious he had been sleeping there instead of in his bed. The map from the case they had just finished was folded and tucked away with a number of other maps from other cases.

Then she made a realization. “Wait, do you not own a television?” She asked, appalled.

“No why?” Spencer replied, oblivious until he looked up and saw her shocked expression. “What, do I need one?”

“W- But- I- How do you… Watch things?” She sputtered.

“My laptop has a disc slot.”

Penelope looked like she was going to pass out. “You _buy dvds_ to watch shows and movies?” She sounded desperate for him to deny it, but he could only give an awkward little lip-tucked smile and nod. She sat down dramatically in an armchair, hand on her heart. “Oh, you sweet, sweet technologically impaired autodidact… It’s so much cheaper to buy a streaming service. I mean, you can even still stream on your... laptop... if it’s powerful enough. Like ten bucks a month, and you get tens of dozens of shows and movies.”

Spencer was immediately interested in that idea, so they spent the rest of their time before dinner picking a provider for him and getting an account set up.

While they ate, they watched movies. Spencer complimented Penelope’s cooking endlessly, and he genuinely didn’t feel bad at all eating it. (Well, maybe in the back of his mind he did, a bit, but he would ignore that with a ferocity.)

Penelope ended up falling asleep on the couch, and Spencer didn’t have the heart to wake her, so he just covered her with a blanket and put up the leftovers as quietly as he could. When he went to sleep that night, he was happy, truly happy.


	29. Chapter 29

124 pounds.

When Spencer was finally able to go back to work, he found a drawing from Henry on his desk, with ‘Get Well Soon’ scrawled on top in notably adult (though not JJ’s) handwriting. He couldn’t help the huge grin on his face upon seeing it.

“Will helped him make you, me, and even Strauss cards,” JJ said, sipping a coffee and leaning against his desk. “Isn’t it cute?”

“It’s great, tell him it made me feel a hundred percent better,” Spencer said. Henry was such a sweet kid, and Spencer felt incredibly lucky to be his godparent. Spencer looked around the office, noticing an absence. “Hey, where’s-”

“Wouldn’t you believe it, after visiting two people with the flu, Morgan got sick,” JJ shook her head. “I warned him not to, but…”

“He thinks he’s invincible.” Spencer finished, and JJ laughed, nodding. “I didn’t know he went to see you too.” Spencer meant to only think it, but ended up saying so.

“Oh, yeah, he didn’t stay long. He just dropped off a soup Garcia made.” JJ said, distracted by her phone. “Sorry, I have to take this… This is Jareau?” She put the phone up to her ear and started walking toward her office.

Work was incredibly slow, which left very little to occupy Spencer’s mind. Boredom was one of the worst feelings; it left his thoughts to wander and his idle hands to fidget. More often than not, those thoughts would wander onto worst-case scenarios and self-deprecation, and he would absently rearrange things, sorting pens or straightening files compulsively. Neither of these behaviors were things Spencer wanted to engage in, so he tried to keep busy. It was one reason he liked his job so much; there was never a dull moment, and always something to keep the mind occupied. Except today, wherein he had apparently flown through his work at an unusual speed.

He pulled out his mini chess board and set it up (placing the pieces back where they had been from a previously interrupted game) on his desk. ‘Playing’ chess would be a poor way to describe what Spencer would do. ‘Deconstructing’ might be a better verb, but at the end of the day Spencer was simply running variables. He knew it’d be impossible to play through every board set up (according to Shannon’s Calculation, there were more chess variables than there were atoms in the observable universe), but he would play through different starting moves and mentally visualize different plays to try and determine which play would allow for the highest likelihood of winning. It was a great way to stimulate an otherwise unoccupied mind.

When it was time to leave, Spencer had fully intended on just going home, but Penelope had other plans.

“A geek bakery, Spencer. They have _dalek cupcakes_. They make _moonhoney_. They have rice crispy treats that are made to look like cake, but have _’the cake is a lie’_ written on top.” She listed off what the shop she had discovered carried without stopping for breath. “Cake pops that look like _golden snitches_. You’ve got to come with me to check it out.”

_i didn’t get half of the references you made_ *  
“Sure PG, I didn’t have anything else planned.” Spencer agreed, and Penelope practically bounced in excitement.

“Oh good, Lola’s been busy all week, and Tanner is doing keto so I didn’t want to drag him out, and I really didn’t want to go alone, and I thought ‘oh Spencer might think it sounds fun’ and yay me I love being right.”

_you didn’t have to tell me straight to my face that i was a back-up plan, but okay_  
Spencer felt a pang of guilt at the thought. He knew Penelope would never think of it like that, and she was an excellent friend, but Spencer’s intrusive thought lingered in spite of himself.

It took a few minutes, but after Penelope had been driving for a short while, Spencer realized they weren’t headed the right way. He thought initially that she was just taking an indirect route, but that wasn’t the case.

“Are we making a stop before heading to the bakery, or was that your abduction ruse?” He asked playfully.

Penelope gave him a sly smile and a wink. “You’ll never escape my clutches now, boy wonder.” She turned off the main road into a neighborhood. “Silly, I just wanted to drop by Derek’s, since it isn’t far.” She gestured toward her lunchbox in the backseat, which Spencer had previously thought to be empty.

“Ah, your famous soup,” Spencer acknowledged.

“I prefer ‘witch’s brew’ or ‘healing potion,’ but yes, I wanted to give him some since I had so much made still from you and JJ.” Penelope said as she pulled into a driveway.

_so this is derek’s house._  
It was nice, if a bit average looking from the outside. It was one story, and the blinds of one window were up, peeking over a kitchen sink. The door had a secondary screen door, and the porch seemed to be swept clean. The lawn had been trimmed recently, but the tree in the front yard was overgrown, branches reaching out to graze the roof. There was a small video camera installed in the corner of the entryway, and when Penelope rang his doorbell, the gentle chimes were in contrast to the classic loud dinging heard from many doorbells.

It took a moment, but when Derek answered the door, Spencer felt compelled to look away. Not that Derek was wearing or doing anything inappropriate, it just… felt odd to see him in a fluffy green bathrobe, pajama pants, and a t-shirt. He had seen Derek in pajamas before (they had shared hotel rooms during cases), but it was a little different showing up to his house. His nose and cheeks were red from illness, and he looked tired.

“Hey, what are you guys doing here? I thought I told you not to come by,” Derek said, raising his eyebrows at Penelope.

“You can’t tell me what to do Derek Morgan. I thought you’d have learned that by now.” Penelope replied haughtily. “Now move, move,” She shooed her way in, and Spencer awkwardly followed behind. “Now, have you already gotten a prescription?”

“Of course, Dr. Garcia.” Derek grinned. “But we all know the real cure is that secret recipe of yours. I was just thinking about getting something to eat, too.”

“Well lucky for you, we won’t stay long. We’re headed to a bakery, it closes at eight, and oh it’s just the cutest thing!”

Spencer couldn’t help looking around while they spoke. The house was unsurprisingly minimalistic in clutter, only a few books and knick knacks put away neatly. He had a wall mounted tv over a brick fireplace, showing a football game playing at a near inaudible volume in the background. There were some framed pictures of his family on the walls, and his glass top coffee table had wrappers, a tissue box, and a puzzle book on it, a waste bin pulled near to the couch.

Spencer actively tried to not profile Derek based on his house.

Garcia busied herself in Derek’s kitchen, heating up the food she brought and making toast to go with it, while Derek sat down across the island. She somehow procured a thermometer, and thrust it at Derek, obviously not in the business of taking no for an answer. He accepted, resting it under his tongue. Spencer shrugged off his coat and hung it over one of the bar stools, noting to himself that Derek kept his house a few degrees warmer than he kept his own.

“Hey hey hey, did it get hot in here or is it just me?” Derek asked as Spencer rolled up his sleeves. The thermometer beeped and Spencer looked at the number.

“You have a fever of 101 degrees, Derek.” He replied. “So I’m going to go with ‘you.’”

The three chatted for a bit while Derek ate, but before long Penelope was jumping up from where she was leaning across the counter.

“Oh shoot, the bakery!”

“We still have plenty of t-” Spencer began, but Penelope’s frenzy was not easily quelled.

“No, if I don’t get an excessive amount of moonhoney _tonight_ for my DnD game this weekend, I am going to- to- oh I don’t know what!” She went to hug Derek goodbye, but stopped short, remembering that he was sick. “Bye sweetie, feel better okay?” She practically called over her shoulder as she hurried toward the door.

Spencer and Derek laughed at her chaotic behaviour. “It was nice of you guys to stop by,” Derek said to Spencer, smiling.

Despite being obviously tired and pink from his fever, his smile was as cheery and warm as always.  
 _oh no he looks cu-_  
Spencer’s brain fritzed for half a second.  
“Yeah, of course. I mean, it was mostly Penelope, but,” Spencer fumbled over his words awkwardly as he followed Penelope out the front. “Get well soon.”

He didn’t stick around after that, and Penelope didn't seem to notice his imminent mental implosion as she whipped the car out of the driveway and headed to her goal, singing along with the radio enthusiastically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dalek - characters from tv show Doctor Who  
> moonhoney - food from game Dungeons and Dragons  
> 'the cake is a lie' - quote/meme from video game Portal  
> golden snitches - object from book/movie series Harry Potter


	30. Chapter 30

126 pounds.

Hotch’s door was open, so Spencer barely tapped out a knock before walking in, needing Hotch’s signature on a report.

“Hey Hotch, I- oh, sorry-” Spencer froze in the doorway, having looked up to see Hotch with his head in his hands, elbows up on his desk. His suit jacket was off, and his sleeves were rolled up messily. He lifted his head up when Spencer spoke, though, gesturing for him to come in.

“Signature?” He guessed, holding a hand out for the papers.

“Um, yeah,” Spencer handed them over quickly, lingering awkwardly as Hotch skimmed the papers. Judging by the way his eyes barely moved over the pages, Spencer could tell Hotch wasn’t really absorbing any of the information. “I can, uh, come back later,” Spencer said, clearing his throat.

“It’s fine,” Hotch said shortly, not looking up from the paperwork.

The silence was deafening, the other sound being the flipping of pages and sounds of the workplace floating in through the door. Hotch scribbled his signature quickly before pushing the papers across the desk towards Spencer. He quickly busied himself with a file on his desk before Spencer had even picked up the papers.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Spencer asked quietly.

“No.”

Spencer rocked onto his heels, flexing the papers in his hands. “Are you sure?” He prodded, trying to use his best ‘i-know-better’ Hotch-impression. “This doesn’t have to be filed until tomorrow,” Spencer said, implying his availability to stay and listen.

Hotch just stared at him for a moment with his ever-serious expression, and for a moment Spencer thought he might have crossed a line, but then Hotch gave a short, relenting huff.

“Jess wants partial custody of Jack,” He confessed, elbows returning to his desk. He ran a thumb over his lip behind clasped hands, brow furrowed. Spencer slid into a seat as Hotch continued. “She’s been incredibly helpful since… the incident, but I just don’t know if I can let this happen. How will it make sense to Jack? What if she has her own kids? I know the situation right now isn’t ideal, but I can’t lose Jack.” Hotch looked at Spencer with doleful eyes, the wordless ‘too’ at the end of his sentence hanging heavy in the air.

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer said, having trouble finding the right thing to say. “I know how much he means to you, and even though you work a lot, you always do your best to put him first.”

“Do I, though?” Hotch wondered aloud. “If I put him first, instead of this job, he might still have a-” Hotch cut himself off, rubbing his hands over his face.

Spencer leaned forward in his chair. “Hotch, that wasn’t your fault, you know that. The only person you can blame is Foyet.” Spencer was about to go into detail about survivor's guilt, but chose to stay quiet instead. It wasn’t the time, and Hotch already knew it anyways. It didn’t make it any easier. “You should sit down with Jessica and talk. I’m sure she’s only trying to help.”

“Yeah, I know,” Hotch agreed, staring into the middle distance.

Spencer took that as his cue to leave. “You know we are always here for you,” Spencer said, referencing himself and the rest of the team.

Hotch gave him a small, almost indiscernible upward twitch of his lip. “I know that, too.”


	31. Chapter 31

127 pounds.  
 _maybe i should skip breakfast today_  
Spencer went right to the kitchen and opened the fridge.  
 _you’re not really hungry, just wait for lunch_  
Spencer pulled out yogurt, berries, and granola, layering the three ingredients in a bowl.  
 _portion it at least! count the berries! one, two, three-_  
Spencer slammed the fridge door harder than he meant to, and took a large bite of his parfait.  
 _next time you weigh yourself, you’ll have gone up a pound_  
Spencer finished eating, having read while doing so in an attempt to distract himself, and washed the used dishes. Afterwards, he got dressed for the day and set about fulfilling a promise to Penelope and Emily.

The three of them had been discussing (okay, the two women were listening to him talk about) how the english language was diverse, and just as a Mexican spanish speaker has their own slang and dialects compared to spanish speakers from Spain, the USA has such a diverse population with multicultural backgrounds that it would only be expected. He had brought up AAVE (African American Vernacular English) as an example, and Penelope quickly added that different generations have different ways of communicating as well. She and Emily started referencing things that Spencer had no clue what were, and it quickly became obvious that there was an entire other side of english slang that Spencer was oblivious to.

They somehow managed to coerce Spencer into agreeing to ‘research internet slang’ in order to ‘improve his linguistic profiling abilities.’ This essentially amounted to Penelope and Emily making a list of websites for Spencer to check out with specific parameters and a warning that people tend to be very loudly opinionated online (which Spencer already knew, of course; the faux anonymity of the internet is why it has such a broad appeal in the first place).

And so, he had his plans for his next day off work carved out. He didn’t like to use advanced technology often, that was true, but that didn’t mean Spencer was opposed to it. Moreso, he simply didn’t see the need for it, and wasn’t a big fan of change. Books and pen and paper held a certain weight to them that was satisfying in a way, and the internet was so vast that it was difficult to separate educational materials from everyday think pieces. The harshly lit screens were unappealing, and as there was no uniform formatting to websites, one had to figure out how to navigate the page they were on everytime. 

Okay, maybe he was opposed to it. That being said, Spencer felt his opinions to be valid, even if the majority of the population disagreed with his stances. But despite all of that, he had a task laid out before him, and so Spencer cracked open his laptop and started in on learning ‘netspeak.’

He learned the history behind text abbreviations, and how things like ‘LOL’ and ‘OMG’ evolved into more niche abbreviations such as ‘GRWM’ or ‘QnA/AMA’ referring to specific topics. Shorthand was another common form of abbreviation, and Spencer caught onto it quickly (‘ur’ in place of ‘your/you’re,’ or ‘ppl’ in place of ‘people’). The really ‘educational’ part was the vast expanse of slang terminology that grew from individual events or unique circumstances to become widely understood. References to a form of comedy known as ‘memes’ were prominent. That would be the part that would be difficult to catch onto, because the language evolved quickly, and oftentimes references would become outdated within just months.

Spencer paused a little after noon to make himself lunch.  
 _you just ate this morning, why would you eat again?_  
He didn’t make anything high-effort, just a piece of peanut butter toast with celery, grapes, and tiny cheese cubes, like ones you would find on a hors d’oeuvres tray. It looked like something a parent would serve their young child.  
 _just the celery, you don’t need the rest of that._  
Spencer struggled to eat it all, but he did.

But his stomach felt heavy.  
 _get it out_

He sat back down at his computer, resuming where he had left off scrolling.  
 _you’re eating too much, your stomach is too full_  
He texted Penelope ‘txt tlk isnt 2 complicated 2 grasp.’ She replied quickly with a flurry of emojis that represented a range of emotions from excitement to surprise to… crying?  
 _it doesn’t feel right like when you’re empty_  
Oh, some people use the crying emoji in place of things like ‘LOL,’ representing the idea of laughing so hard you cry. Right. He replied with a thumbs up emoji, and opened up another tab (he already had a few dozen up) for another website.  
 _throw up_  
Spencer’s fingers froze over his keyboard.  
 _you’ve done it before, just-_

“Repeated self-induced vomiting can lead to electrolyte imbalances caused by dehydration and loss of potassium and sodium, which in turn can cause irregular heartbeats and possibly heart failure and death.” He said it quietly, clearly enunciating every syllable to himself. “The potential for gastric rupture during periods of binging increases with the frequency of vomiting. Inflammation, tears, and possible rupture of the esophagus from stomach acid in the esophagus increases the risk of esophageal cancer. Teeth can stain and begin decaying from stomach acids released during frequent vomiting. Chronic irregular bowel movements and constipation, peptic ulcers and pancreatitis are also caused by repeated self-induced vomiting.” His eidetic memory allowed him to read off the imaginary list of facts without pausing or stuttering. He knew this mantra well, and it never failed to help him talk himself down from doing something he knew he would regret. “Parotid salivary glands can become enlarged and sometimes painful when stimulated by acid in the vomit. The gastroesophageal sphincter can become loosened by repeated vomiting, leading to involuntary vomiting in the future, including when hiccuping or burping. People with disordered eating habits often feel the need to ‘purge’ in some way, and when they begin to it becomes difficult to stop, much like an addiction.Studies show that the more frequently someone with disordered eating habits self-induces vomiting, the more likely they are to attempt it again in the future.”

During his first stint in university, Spencer had let the ‘habit’ go too far, and he was almost hospitalized after going to the doctor to get medication for a peptic ulcer. After that near miss (which he only managed to get out of due to his reputation preceding him), he focused on getting his disorder to a more manageable point, and almost completely stopped purging all together. But that didn’t prevent the unwanted thoughts from bubbling up in moments of weakness.

He didn’t purge, and while the logical part of his brain was thankful and steadfast, the emotional part felt somehow weak and like he wasn’t ‘trying hard enough.’


	32. Chapter 32

128 pounds.

Derek’s _hand_ was on his _hip_.  
Not a big deal. It didn’t _mean_ anything. It was a little weird for him to do, but that was all.

Spencer and Emily had been getting coffee in the break room, idly chatting about vaguely work related nothings, when Derek came in, mug in hand.

“Mind if I get some of that?” He asked, gesturing toward the pot. Emily was standing closer, so she grabbed it and reached over to top off Derek’s cup. As she did, Derek leaned in to help her reach, and at some point his arm was around Spencer and his hand rested on Spencer’s hip.

His first two thoughts, in quick succession, were _oh fuck_ and _i wonder if my hip feels fat_. Admittedly neither were coherent thoughts, as he was highly distracted by how close Derek was to him, and how warm he was. It was actually a bit ridiculous, he felt like a space heater. Spencer wasn’t a very touchy person, though, so it just felt... unfamiliar. That’s it.

Emily and Derek spoke for a short minute, and Spencer vaguely acknowledged that he should chime in, but he was distracted by a mini war he was raging in his own brain.

And then Derek was leaving. He couldn’t have been there for more than two minutes, and yet somehow those two minutes felt like ages.

_why did he do that?! it wasn’t anything, right? it’s not a big deal_  
He was distractable the rest of the day.

-

126 pounds.

“Hey pretty boy.”

Oh. Well, that was _not_ the tone he was used to hearing Derek say that in. By now Spencer was used to Derek’s playful flirting, but when Derek stopped him in the hall, on the verge of crowding him out against the wall but far enough from doing so that Spencer could blame it on his own imagination, his tone was different. Spencer couldn’t articulate the difference if he tried, but it was there.

“Your hair’s cute.” Derek tousled Spencer’s hair as he spoke. He had just gotten another trim. It wasn’t very different, but the cut did accent his curls, according to the stylist.

“Th- anks,” he managed to reply. Spencer felt like he was choking. He almost felt like he was being bullied, but obviously he wasn’t. So what was it?

Someone turned down the hall then, and Derek backed up, continuing on down to Penelope’s self-proclaimed ‘lair.’ Spencer was left blushing, confused and frustrated.

-

127 pounds.

Derek, Penelope, JJ, Rossi, and Emily were talking about who in the office they’d go on a date with, if they had to pick one. Spencer was there, of course, but he wasn’t really actively participating. Of course Penelope and Derek had picked each other playfully, and Emily chose JJ because they already got along super well. Rossi chose Emily because they could go to a wine tasting and quote ‘not bother each other.’ JJ chose Spencer.

“I mean I literally did date him, so,” she laughed.

“That’s right!” Emily said. “I always forget that.”

“Oh he was a great date,” JJ said, swatting his shoulder lightly from where she stood next to his seat. “Every bit the gentleman.” Spencer laughed. They did have a good time, even if in the end they agreed being friends fit their dynamic better.

“I’ll be honest, if Reid was a girl, I’d have tried to hit that when he started working here,” Derek laughed. “Something about the cute nerdy thing could work for me.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and Penelope squealed with laughter. Spencer felt like his blood froze in his veins. Emily and Rossi went into a heated discussion about their own genderswap-selves.

_he’d date me if i were a girl. well no, he didn’t say that, he said ‘hit that.’ at any rate, he’d be interested in me if i were a girl. meaning he’s not interested because i’m a boy. so i was right, all the flirting and coming onto me is just him joking around. but he does it so often, why? he does the same thing with Penelope, it shouldn’t matter. but he’s always done that with Penelope, why did he only recently start doing it with me? it doesn’t make any sense…_

“Are you okay?” JJ asked quietly.

Spencer snapped out of his blank stare. “Yeah, sorry, I’m good. Just got distracted.” He buried the thoughts quickly, not wanting them to spiral for no good reason.

-

129 pounds.

“Oh, hey! How did things go with Lani?”

“Good! I’m just tryna take it easy, see where things go.” Derek and JJ were talking at Derek’s desk, and although Spencer wasn’t _trying_ to listen, his desk was close enough to Derek’s that he could hear everything.

“I’m glad! She’s definitely a more laid back kinda girl,” JJ said.

Apparently Derek had gone on a date over the weekend.  
Spencer felt slightly foolish, but he couldn’t quite make out why. Some spark of irritation was lit in him, and he felt almost itchy with annoyance.

Maybe it was petty of Spencer to ignore Derek for the rest of the day.

Well, rest of the day until Derek’s butt decided to land on the edge of Spencer’s desk.

“Hey hot stuff, what do you got going on?”

Spencer pointedly refrained from looking up from what he was doing. “Work.” It wasn’t a lie; he was finishing up his profile of an inmate based on his confiscated journals. Certain threats had been made, along with admittances of previously unknown past crimes, and Spencer was trying to separate fact from fiction in the criminal’s writing.

“Right… Well I wanted to ask if you wanted to go with me and Emily to-”

“Can’t I’m busy then.” Spencer cut him off, standing up.

“What? Reid, you don’t even know when-”

“Huh, weird.” Spencer walked away to file his finished report. He knew he was acting childish, as he often did when upset, but per usual he couldn’t bring himself to care in the moment. It was as if Derek was intentionally trying to fuck with him, but he seemed oblivious at the same time. It was as if the second Spencer ‘came out,’ Derek decided to make it a _point_ to stress him out. At first it was fine, just simple flirting, whatever, but by then it was just exhausting. It was as if Derek was _trying_ to make Spencer like him. Which was then immediately discredited by his romps with Jaqueline, Kimberley, now Lani.

Spencer was just tired of the way Derek was being, and wanted to avoid him, which made him feel worse because Derek was a really great friend and Spencer liked hanging out with him a lot.


	33. Chapter 33

127 pounds.

“What is your problem?” Two days into the silent treatment and Derek had gotten Spencer alone in Penelope’s office. She had gone to do something while Spencer was already down there, and Spencer immediately suspected a set up when Derek walked in, closing the door behind himself.

“Hm?” Spencer asked, not looking up from the computer screen. Derek grabbed the back of the spinning chair Spencer was seated in and swiveled it around to face him.

“You can’t just ignore me forever,” Derek said. His tone was playful, but his expression was serious.

“Actually I can,” Spencer said. “Realistically I could get any information through any of the other five people on our team during cases, and our regular office work never overlaps, and there’s no employee rule stating that we need to interact outside of work, so I-”

“Alright kid, knock it off,” Derek was getting angry, and Spencer almost felt bad. “Come on, I don’t even know what I did.”

_well there it is, he’s incognizant. he doesn’t even realize how he acts or how he makes me feel._  
“That’s the entire problem,” Spencer replied. “You’re insensitive and unaware of how you act, and that’s coming from someone who has a habit of missing social cues.”

Derek looked taken aback. He sat down on the edge of one of Penelope’s tables. “Okay, I hear you. Let’s talk about it. Nothin’s gonna get better if you keep it all inside that head of yours.”

_this is the worst. actually the worst. the very last thing i want to do is talk. i would literally rather faint in front of him again. how am i supposed to do this? what am i even supposed to say?_

Derek seemed to notice him struggling to verbalize his feelings. “Was it one thing I did, or do I do it frequently?” He prompted.

Spencer knew he was just trying to be helpful, but it still irked him. Still, he tried to reply calmly. “It’s just… You always- well, you never used to, but now you… treat me differently. And I know it shouldn’t really be a big deal, but I’m not Garcia, I don’t _know_ how to really, I guess react to that. And I can’t tell _why_ you started doing it either.”

“Woah woah, wait. Is this about me calling you cute?” Derek asked.

“No, I mean yes, but not just that. All of it! The nicknames, the pick up lines… You started treating me differently, even though I specifically said that’s what I _didn’t_ want, and I just-” Spencer scrubbed a hand over his face, then ran it through his hair roughly. “I don’t _get_ it.”

Derek shook his head slightly, as though clearing it. “Spencer, I’m sorry man. I didn’t think- I didn’t know it made you uncomfortable. You know I’d have stopped if you just told me.”

“It’s not that I’m uncomfortable, I just don’t want people to say things to me that they don’t mean.” Spencer immediately wanted to disappear into the floor. “Not that I want you to mean it. That came out wrong. I mean I was used to you calling me pre- nicknames, but the joke’s gotten a bit much.” Spencer could feel himself digging a deeper hole with each word.

Derek looked almost offended. “What, you think I call you ‘pretty boy’ because you’re ugly?”

_i mean yeah that’s the joke._  
Spencer shrugged, picking at his sleeve. Derek was suddenly there, crouching down to his level, grabbing his wrist to stop him picking. Spencer froze, hesitating to look up.

“I call you ‘pretty boy’ because you’re pretty, dummy.” Derek said in a too-gentle tone. “The same way I call you ‘genius’ because you’re a genius, and ‘hot shot’ because you like to show off, and ‘dummy’ when you’re being ridiculous. Like now. I’m not trying to bully you, Spencer. You got that?”

_why do i feel like i'm going to cry?_  
“Yeah, okay.” Spencer’s voice came out weak, betraying his want to seem fine.

“I’ll knock off the other stuff if you want, but you better know you’re still gonna be my pretty boy.”

_oh. OH. shit._  
That was more or less the end of the conversation, Spencer barely nodding goodbye when Derek left after another minute. Penelope came back in with paperwork she had gone to retrieve for Spencer, and Spencer left to go home because it was getting late, leaving the work on his desk to look at tomorrow. He wouldn’t be able to get any work done tonight, a bit distracted by the terrible, horrible, abominable, reprehensible realization he had just been forced to confront despite the layers of cement he had attempted to smother it underneath.

_I call you ‘pretty boy’ because you’re pretty  
you’re my pretty boy_  
Yeah. Spencer had developed feelings for Derek Morgan, who was oblivious to the havoc he was wreaking in Spencer's mind and heart.  
_FML._


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
>  Here it is, what we've been anxiously awaiting, what i decided to do a double-update in order to share sooner, what I'm wigging about... the introduction of OMC! (Ben is the omc, btw)

125 pounds.

When Spencer walked into work the next day, he was greeted with a pointed but jovial “Well hello, pretty boy” from Derek. And although it was the exact same thing Derek always said to him, Spencer found that he felt very differently about it now that he was reassured that Derek wasn’t just making fun of him and he confronted the fact that he liked Derek. Where he once just sort of let it happen, he now _wanted_ Derek to call him that nickname.

Not that he’d ever admit it in any capacity. So he just gave a small ‘hey’ in return, and settled in at his desk.

“So I still never got a real answer on whether you wanted to go out with me and Emily,” Derek said. “Seeing how I never got to finish inviting you.”

“Oh, yeah… sorry?” Spencer offered with a half apologetic smile.

“Uh huh, sure. Emily got invited to a bar trivia night with some friends. Penelope and Rossi are apparently going too, but with one of Penelope’s friends.” Derek explained. “You, me, Emily, and her two friends are gonna be on a team, and Penelope and Rossi have a different team. The whole bar competes though, there can be up to I think ten teams?”

“Well if I go we already know who’s going to win,” Spencer said with a grin.

Derek laughed out loud. “There you go, hot shot, bring that cocky attitude and I don’t doubt it. So you’ll come?”

“I guess so,” Spencer agreed.

From halfway across the room, Emily audibly cheered. “Oh thank GOD,” she said, without a trace of irony. “Ben and Amanda are IDIOTS, you’re my only hope.”

It was set for next week, but the days passed by quickly with small workloads all around. When the day-of finally arrived, Emily, Derek, and Spencer carpooled to the bar while Rossi drove Penelope. Lola was there, and when she saw Spencer she pulled him in for an unexpected hug.

“Aw, how’s my cute little bean pole been?” She asked, loud over the din.

“I’m good, thank you,” Spencer replied, slightly too formal for the setting. Everyone settled in to their team tables (Rossi looking sorely out of place with Penelope and her friends, but nonetheless warmly greeting them all and still managing to hit it off with a woman sitting back to back with him) and the host called everyone to order. Reid sat between Ben and Derek, Emily on Derek’s other side and Amanda filling in the last seat. He didn’t accept Emily’s offer to buy drinks, and avoided the greasy and high-carb foods provided.

The format was simplistic, there would be six categories selected at random, and whoever hit the buzzer first and got the answer right would earn a point and the opportunity to pick which of the categories the next question came from.

“Tonight's categories are as follows!” The host hit a button and their screens revealed the first, going across the top. “Amphibians and Reptiles, Mathematics, Pop Culture, Transportation, Fashion and Design, and last but not least Mythology!”

Spencer leaned into the table. “So am I going easy on people, or…”

“Oh hell no!” Ben exclaimed in hushed tones. “Emily’s told me about you, Einstein. We’re going for the clean sweep.”

“What if they think we’re cheating, like we have the answers or something?” Amanda asked quietly.

“Come on guys, give the others a chance,” Emily coaxed good-naturedly. “As long as we win in the end,” she added, winking at Spencer.

Spencer kept almost silent during the first few rounds, essentially sizing up the other teams as everyone started to rack up points. The only time he jumped in right off the bat was when someone chose Mathematics. The host had barely finished speaking before Spencer had hit the buzzer and rattled off the answer. He chose a different category, and since then no one else had gone back to math, which was likely intentional. Amanda had cracked up, laughing her way through two rounds before calming down. Overall, their team performed decently, Ben and Amanda gunning for the Fashion and Design category, Derek and Emily trying to answer in the Transportation and Pop Culture categories. Penelope propelled her team forward using the Amphibians and Reptiles category, which Derek and Emily found hilarious.

After the game was about half over, their team was in fourth place. It’d only take three points to make up the ground and be tied with second. The next question was, finally, another from the Mathematics category. Spencer gestured for the buzzer, and Emily wordlessly passed it down. He buzzed, answered, chose the same category again, and repeated three times before switching to Mythology and passing the buzzer off again. Just like that, they were in the running for the lead. The host handled it gracefully, joking about him having a calculator brain, before moving on.

“Is it weird that I found that incredibly hot?” Ben deadpanned, and Amanda immediately cracked up again, Emily trying to shush them both so she could hear the question. Spencer could feel his face heat up. “What, I’m just saying. Call me sapiosexual.”

As the game continued, Ben shifted in closer to Spencer, practically leaning over the table. He wasn’t trying to be discreet, and it made Spencer uncomfortable. It wasn’t that Ben was unattractive of anything, it was just awkward for him. He was also acutely aware of Derek on his other side, and wondered what he thought of Ben’s behavior, if he thought anything at all. Not that Spencer expected him to think anything...

After a short while, Ben took the buzzer from Emily, answered a question, chose the math category, and passed it to Spencer again. “There are only two math and one pop culture question left, take it away cutie.”

Spencer accepted the buzzer and quickly handled the math questions.

“Alright everybody, this is it, the final question, category Pop Culture: In this 2017 internet meme, chef Nusret Gökçe went viral for his cooking flair under what viewer-given nickname?”

Penelope hit the buzzer, but Spencer was just a second faster. The host nodded to him.

“He was called ‘Salt Bae’.” Spencer said, and half the bar started losing their minds as the host announced their team the winners. Ben and Emily jumped up too, yelling and cheering while Amanda rushed up to get the gift card reward.

“HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT??” Penelope demanded.

“You only have yourself to blame,” Spencer said simply, giving a small smile.

“When we made him look into internet culture,” Emily got out between laughs. "But how he knew _that_..."

“You two did what?” Derek asked in disbelief. “It might have given us the win, but don’t mess my boy up with you two’s nonsense.” He warned. “If I hear the word ‘wig’ come out of his mouth, I’m blaming you both.”

“It’s not messing him up,” Penelope argued. “It’s… making sure he’s well rounded.”

Rossi gave his two cents then. “No no, I’m on Derek’s side, I don’t need another one of you running underfoot talking about ‘stan’ or ‘fan-dom’ crap.” Even Spencer had to laugh at that. Ben took that opportunity to slip his arm through Spencer’s, monopolizing his attention.

“So, you work with Emily?” He asked. “You must have gotten in quick, you look my age.”

“I graduated pretty early, and I had a brief internship,” Spencer confirmed. “Although, I’m not that much younger.”

“Wow, that’s so cool,” Ben cooed as he led Spencer away from the crowd. “I work for a tech company, nothing fancy, I just do hardware development and design.”

“Oh, well, have you met Penelope?” Spencer asked. “She’s all about that kind of stuff.”

“And you’re not?”

“Uh, no. She calls me a luddite, or technophobe,” Spencer said.

“Oh my gosh, that is the cutest thing ever,” Ben gushed, depositing Spencer in a barstool and sitting beside him, very much in his personal space. He offered to buy Spencer a drink, but he refused. “So what do you like, besides outsmarting an entire room full of people?”

Spencer looked around the room. Everyone was milling about, socializing. Rossi had reconnected with the woman he was speaking to earlier, and looked like he might be going home with her in the near future. Emily was chatting up the host flirtatiously, and Penelope was entertaining three people with a very animated narrative. Derek was talking to Amanda, a man who had his arm around her waist, and two other women in a small group.

“Well, work takes up a lot of my time, but I do like to go to the movies and theatre.”

“I was a theatre kid in high school. I started out as a stagehand, but one night one of the actors got sick and couldn’t participate, and I knew the lines, so,” Ben shrugged. “I _adore_ Oscar Wilde.”

Spencer laughed as he remembered something. “I always found it funny that he knew Greek, Italian, French and German, but couldn’t speak any Gaelic.”

“Right?!” Ben exclaimed. “I don’t know how he could claim his Irish blood. Makes me feel better for not knowing a lick of Spanish.”

While they continued chatting with unexpected ease, Spencer took another look around the bar. Rossi appeared to have left, Emily had moved to talk to Amanda and a couple other people, and Penelope was still talking to her group. Spencer couldn’t find Derek, and his stomach twisted in a knot knowing he had likely left with someone, one of those girls most likely...

It was ridiculous. Why should Derek enjoy others’ company while Spencer wallowed in self pity? He just needed to move on. Derek just wasn't an option. And there was a man sitting right next to him who was more than happy to be there.

_fuck it_  
“Actually, if you don’t mind, I think I will take that drink.” Spencer said impulsively.


	35. Chapter 35

The process of getting drunk, while easy to achieve, is actually a complex set of reactions inside the human body. The limbic system is slowed by alcohol, which results in the loss of inhibition commonly experienced by people when enebrited. Alcohol releases serotonin initially, causing the well known ‘warm fuzzy feeling,’ while dopamine is released after, into the ‘reward’ center of the brain, effectively encouraging the inebriated person to continue drinking. Then of course the alcohol will increase the effects of the inhibitory transmitter Gamma-Aminobutyric Acid in the brain, a neurotransmitter that dampens responses, causing sluggishness and slow response time.

Spencer didn’t even realize he was saying all that out loud. He thought he was just thinking it, but Ben was sitting there, hanging off his words like they were the most interesting thing he had heard all day. They were still at the bar, but they had moved from the island to a small corner booth. Ben’s legs were swung over Spencer’s lap, and he was braiding a little section of Spencer’s hair as he talked.

“You’re so smart,” Ben said in an awestruck voice, words a bit slurred. “I’d be exhausted if I were you, just walking around remembering everything I’d ever read.”

“I have to compartmentalize,” Spencer explained. “I only remember what I need to know, or want to mention. Otherwise I try to keep it tucked away, because if I just let it all buzz around in my head, it’d be too much to sort through.”

Ben was actually handsome. Full lips, soft jaw, round eyes… When Ben leaned in to kiss him, Spencer didn’t mind much. Granted, if he were sober he probably would’ve cared, but that was a moot point. It was surprisingly soft and chaste, if having another person's tongue behind your teeth _could_ be described as such, in contrast with Ben’s other more direct behaviors.

“Hey, do you know the science behind attraction?” Ben asked between kisses.

“Sure, I’ve read a couple studies,” Spencer replied, confusion reflected in his tone.

“You should talk about it, tell me about the studies,” Ben said, a playful grin flitting across his face.

Spencer’s alcohol addled brain wasn’t very helpful in his attempt to identify Ben’s reason for such a request, but he complied nonetheless, Ben pulling away slightly to allow him air to speak. “Well, when attraction is being examined, it’s easiest to break it down into three main categories; lust, attraction, and attachment. While there can be overlap, these categories are identified by their corresponding hormones.”

Ben had shifted, and was now sitting on Spencer’s lap entirely, facing him. Spencer had the fleeting thought that, if they both weren’t slender men, the table would make this position uncomfortably tight, but as it was currently, it was just very snug and warm. Well, the warmth was likely partly the alcohol and partly Spencer’s blush. Ben’s hands were in his hair, and it was most definitely distracting from what he was trying to say. Spencer wasn’t sure why him talking was “doing it” for Ben, beyond his earlier comment about being sapiosexual, but he also wasn’t going to be the one to question it, especially when Ben was tugging at the base of his hair and trailing his lips on his neck like that. But he was going to question getting an erection in public.

“Do you want to, uh, get out of here?” Spencer asked. He never was the one to ask, but here he was, a bit drunk and a lot interested.

Ben agreed enthusiastically, but as they were walking out the door, a hand grabbed Spencer’s forearm.

“Come on buddy, let’s get you home.” Derek sounded worried, but that didn’t register in Spencer’s mind.

“Oh, I was going with-”

“Maybe next time, when you’re not hammered and are in a state to actually agree.” Derek interrupted.

That pissed Spencer off. “I’m fine, Derek. I didn’t even drink much.”

“Spencer, you can’t even walk on your own,” Derek said, and Spencer noticed that Derek was supporting most of his weight.

“It was his idea,” Ben interjected. “What are you, his bodyguard? Come on man, me an’ Spencey were having fun.”

Derek’s grip tightened on Spencer’s arm. Spencer wondered if Derek even realized. “You have a cab waiting outside for you, Emily flagged it. She’s waiting for you. Like I said, you two can do whatever you want when he’s not blackout drunk.”

Ben sputtered indignantly. “What a buzzkill. Spence babe, get my number from Emmy, okay?”

“Of course,” Spencer assured him. When Ben was in the cab, Spencer rounded on Derek. “What the hell, Derek? I’m not that drunk, I can make my own decisions!”

“Can you even hear yourself right now?” Derek asked, brow furrowed in frustration. He still had a grip on Spencer’s arm, but it was thankfully looser. “You’re slurring and stuttering, and you almost fell going out the door!”

“No I didn’t,” Spencer argued. At least, he didn’t think he did. And he didn’t feel like his speech was that bad. Maybe a little slurred, but he was still entirely coherent. Right?

“Come on, I’m taking you home,” Derek sighed, apparently deciding the argument was over.

“Yeah, okay _dad_ ,” Spencer snorted. “All of you treat me like a baby. I’m so fucking tired of it. Who _cares_ if I go home with someone??” Maybe it was the alcohol (okay, definitely), but Spencer was feeling a bit more inclined to say things he normally kept in his head.

“I’m not arguing with you while you’re drunk.” Derek opened the passenger door for Spencer, who got in begrudgingly. “You can be mad at me all you want tomorrow.”

“That’s deflecting,” Spencer pointed out as Derek started the car. “You didn’t address anything I said.”

“It’s not treating you like a baby to make sure you don’t wake up with regrets tomorrow morning.” Derek replied.

“You and Rossi always call me ‘kid’,” Spencer said. “How is that _not_ treating me like a child?”

“Are you kidding me?” Derek deadpanned. “You were a kid when you first started working with the FBI, and the nickname stuck. Are you really going to sit there and tell me you have a problem with it now, after literal years?”

Spencer slumped in his seat. “No… But I just-”

“Spencer, people caring about you and wanting to make sure you’re okay is not synonymous with them thinking you’re incapable or infantilizing you.”

Spencer didn’t have a retort for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N; mushy personal talk
> 
> hey guys. i'm really sorry if i've been slow answering comments or missed a couple here and there... this week really hasn't been easy :/
> 
> in an effort to be completely transparent, i'll give a run down on what's been going on: a couple weeks ago, i was robbed. thankfully i was not bodily present during the event so i am unharmed, which i'm of course eternally grateful for, but it definitely upped my anxiety levels. now, just this week, i've been charged unexpected medical bills due to an error on my health provider's part.
> 
> i know it's selfish to complain, as everyone has stuff going on, and i hope this doesn't come across as a pity party, but especially with the pandemic going on, my stress and financial anxiety is through the roof.
> 
> that being said, i want to thank all of you guys. thank you for reading, thank you for commenting, thank you for your patience between updates. writing is truly a bone-deep passion of mine, and it makes me so happy to be able to share this with all of you. in times of happiness and light, and into times of uncertainty and worry, writing has always been a way to let it all out and really /feel/. i can only hope that as a reader, you can /feel/ some of what i do too. ao3 is an amazing platform that allows me to experience something wonderful along with countless other people in a crazy community of word-lovers. thank you <3 <3
> 
> in accordance with all of this information, the good and the bad, i wanted to quickly say i am opening commissions. i will be making a separate post discussing this in more detail, but i wanted to let you guys know first and foremost, and assure you without a shadow of a doubt that this will NOT impact my upload schedule for this fic. this fic is my bread, my butter, and my baby. i promise you will NOT catch me slippin.
> 
> sorry this was so long, i just had a lot to say, a lot to get off my chest.
> 
> thank you guys so much, you have no idea how much you're appreciated. <3 <3


	36. Chapter 36

Spencer was dead. He died. He died and Hell was real and this was it. It was the only reasonable, realistic explanation for the unearthly pain in his skull and muscles.

He didn't remember going to sleep, but he sure as hell noticed waking up. Spencer felt like he couldn't move; that is, if he did, he'd throw up.

_what happened last night?_  
Spencer remembered drinking with Ben and making out, but things got a bit more fragmented from there. Did he-

_fuck shit damnit_  
Spencer sat up as quickly as he could without seeing spots, and quickly looked around his room. It didn't look like anyone else had been in it, apart from a glass of water on his bedside table, which he immediately started downing. He had also fallen asleep with his trousers on.

_oh yeah_  
He remembered Derek driving him home, and being upset about it. Spencer cringed thinking about his own behavior. He'd have to make it up to Derek at work somehow.

_FUCK SHIT DAMNIT I HAVE WORK_  
Spencer looked at the time. He was running late, but he wasn’t irredeemably late yet. Derek drove him on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Today was Friday, but Spencer knew he wouldn't be ready in time to catch the metro, so he texted Derek asking if he could grab him on his way in.

D: _just waking up?_  
S: _Yes, I won't be ready in time to catch the train._  
D: _lol, ok. i'll be there in like 30_  
S: _Ty, ttys._  
D: _ty? did you just abbreviate 'thank you'?_  
D: _what the hell is 'ttys'?_  
D: _im gonna kill PG_

-

"What am I looking at?" Derek asked as Spencer walked out to the car. "You are the most hungover looking person I've ever seen."

Spencer was wearing sunglasses, had a water bottle with a straw sticking out of it, and hadn't bothered with his hair. He was dressed fine, though. He didn't really care how he looked too much, to be honest. He was just waiting for the painkillers he took to kick in. His anti nausea meds were faster acting, so at least he didn't feel like falling on his face any more.

"I can't in good conscience let you walk into work like that," Derek said when they parked.

"Then do it in bad conscience," Spencer said, eyes still closed, as they had been throughout the entire drive.

"Come on buddy, chin up," Derek encouraged him, and he took the glasses off Spencer's face and the straw out of his bottle. "The trick to getting over a hangover is to not act like you have one," He joked.

"I don't think there's a scientific basis for that claim," Spencer replied, but didn't even listen to Derek's response because his fingers were in Spencer's hair and he was using every fibre of his being to not melt into the gentle touch. Derek fixed his part and softly tugged out the few tangles from his curls.

"There, now you actually look like someone the government might employ," Derek grinned.

Spencer was about to comment on how he could brush his own hair, but paused.  
 _'people caring about you and wanting to make sure you’re okay is not synonymous with them thinking you’re incapable or infantilizing you.'_

Spencer wasn’t sure that literally combing his hair for him fell into that category, but he let it be. He opted for a quiet “thank you.” 

“Sure, now let’s go.”

“I mean, thank you for last night,” Spencer elaborated. “You were right, I definitely wasn’t really…” he trailed off awkwardly.

Derek smiled, but it seemed taut. “It’s no biggie. Glad to hear you didn’t decide to stay mad at me. But I did want to mention, I was surprised that you decided to drink. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you finish one drink.”

“Yeah, I was too,” Spencer said. “In college I drank, but it kind of loses it’s glamour the older you get.”

Derek snickered. “Hangovers’ll do that.”

Both men tactfully refrained from mentioning anything about a certain prior addiction that was the root of why it was so particularly surprising.

Spencer suddenly remembered something. “I thought you had left last night around the same time Rossi had.”

Derek shook his head. “Nah, I went outside with a few people for a while because a couple of them wanted a smoke break, but that was only for like thirty minutes.”

Spencer just nodded silently. He was mortified thinking about his assumptions from the previous night, and the fact that if he hadn’t jumped to such a conclusion, he might not have even accepted Ben’s advances.

He was genuinely unsure whether he regretted it or not.


	37. Chapter 37

132 pounds.  
_when did i gain all that weight??_

He had been doing well for a while, managing his eating and focusing on his health, trying to fight the thoughts in his head, but when he saw that number on the scale, Spencer lost his drive.

It had been a couple weeks since that night at the bar, and Spencer had spoken on the phone with Ben a few times since then. The first was filled with apologies from Spencer and explanations that he normally didn’t behave that way. Ben had just laughed him off, saying that he had nothing to apologize for. He did, however, suggest that next time they met up, Spencer should ‘leave the guard dog at home.’ Spencer defended Derek, saying that they both really were too drunk and Derek did the right thing. Future calls were more casual, and they had tried to set up a date, but a case popped up, disrupting their plans. Spencer promised to reschedule when he was back in town.

Even after a couple dates, Spencer honestly wasn’t sure whether he liked Ben or not. He was playful, easygoing, incredibly complimentary, and attractive, but Spencer felt like it was all superficial. Of course, he was also still trying to get rid of his feelings for Derek, so it wasn’t any surprise he was being fickle hearted. He felt like he was being too hard on Ben, especially considering all his nicer qualities, and when Spencer was with him, it did help keep his mind off work.

“Do you want a ride home?” Derek asked one afternoon as they headed out of the building.

“Thanks, but actually Ben and I have plans,” Spencer replied.

“Really?” Derek said, incredulous. His arm dropped from where it had been lazily swung around Spencer’s shoulders. “I didn’t realize you two were a thing.”

“Yeah, well, he’s a sweet guy, so,” Spencer shrugged awkwardly, ignoring his heart’s rhythm kicking up a notch, and texted Ben that he was on his way out.

“I guess I just didn’t think he was your type,” Derek said.

“Why’s that?”

Derek looked hesitant, casting his eyes down and finding a momentary refuge in holding the door for Spencer and one other person who wasn’t far behind. “No offense, but… He didn’t seem like the type of person who could really… interact with you on an intellectual level.” Derek chose his wording carefully.

He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but it was still frustrating to hear. Spencer furrowed his brow. "You don't know him _at all_ , Derek."

"Well, yeah, but he seemed kinda... y'know," Derek raised his eyebrows, "at the bar."

“What, unintelligent?" Spencer clarified. "Because if I remember correctly, he didn't answer a single question incorrectly of the ones he buzzed in for. Not that it matters, because again, you don't know him." Spencer was growing defensive, so he tried to lower his tone. "Not all intelligence is just analysis and science and theorems, I thought you would know that."

"Spencer, of course I do, I didn't mean-"

But Spencer wasn't finished. “And even if he were a complete _idiot_ , at least, unlike other people, Ben likes listening to me, instead of saying things like ‘we get it’ or ‘put the string back in’,” Spencer said, referencing one comment that had stung particularly in the moment. As though it were a perfectly timed scene in a movie, Spencer spotted Ben's car pulling up. So Spencer didn’t wait for Derek’s reply, instead leaving with a quick, annoyed, ‘see you tomorrow,’ trying not to care about Derek’s hurt, surprised expression as he slid into the passenger seat of Ben’s car.

"Woah, well hello there," Ben said as the door closed. "Was that a tiff I just interrupted?"

"It's nothing," Spencer replied quickly. "Nothing important, anyway."

Ben nodded. "If you say so, sweetie. So, where are we off to today? I know that one movie just hit the theater, the modern Frankenstein one?"

Spencer's mouth twitched up into a smile. "You mean the one that I said had a terrible trailer riddled with medical impossibilities?"

Ben grinned widely in response, like an overeager puppy. "The very one. I'm gonna listen to you rip into it through the first half, and during the second half I'm gonna snog your face off." Ben caught Spencer's blush and head duck. "Oh come on, I'll get seats in the back so we don't bother anyone," he encouraged coyly.

"You're insufferable, Ben."


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To My Readers:
> 
> I know this isn't my normal upload day, but I just wanted to pop by really quick because I'm in my feelings. I just wanted to say thank you, I adore you, I value you, and you make a difference in my life. You guys really are important to me, you give me drive and help me to become more confident in my abilities. I've sat here and scrolled through your comments on days when I'm feeling drained or uninspired, and it truly helps raise my spirits.
> 
> I'd love to be able to interact with you guys more, so I wanted to let you know that I made a twitter account <3  
> My handle is @/gwhump , and if you let me know you're there from this fic I'll hit a follow back (I do tweet/ retweet nsfw fandom content occasionally, so I would request that this stays 18+...)
> 
> Again, thank you guys so much, and now here's a midweek mini-update!!

It was actually startling when Derek spoke, his tone even but hot, cutting down one of the small town officers who had said something unnecessarily snarky in response to one of Spencer’s long-winded explanations.

“You will _not_ speak to _anyone_ on this team like that,” He said sharply. “I don’t care how old you are or how long you’ve had this job, _Doctor_ Reid is leiges above you in terms of both education and experience dealing with cases like these, which likely explains _why_ you had trouble keeping up with his assessment. We are here to work with you, but don’t think for one second that we won’t take over completely, especially if the rest of the officers here show as little cooperation as you. Either be quiet and try to _learn_ something, or leave.”

The man was red in the face, eyes screwed so tight they looked closed. “How _dare_ you, I’m going to-”

“What, get your boss?” Derek interrupted. “By all means, please do. That way we can actually discuss the details of the case with a competent cop.” The man stormed off, in the direction of the chief's office no less, and Spencer turned to Derek, mouth agape and eyes wide. “What?” Derek asked, seeing Spencer’s expression.

_i kind of want to kiss you right now_  
_wait fuck_  
“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Bullshit,” Derek replied quickly. “That guy was being a jackass. Besides,” he continued in a much less hostile tone, “you were right. Just because you can rattle off facts like you’re reading a psychology professor’s magnum opus doesn’t give us a free pass to comment every time you open your mouth.”

Spencer felt vaguely guilty, wondering if he had really made Derek feel bad for the team's past comments. Sure, they were annoying, but it wasn’t like he had held a grudge. The only reason he had said something in the moment was because he was annoyed and lashed out.  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that you had to-”

“Hey, you don’t have anything to apologize for,” Derek cut him off sternly. “Unless you wanna say sorry for waiting so long to say something. Now stop looking at me like that and let’s get back to work.”

Spencer snapped his eyes back to his notes quickly, and the two worked in silence until Hotch and Emily got back to the precinct with more information. They didn’t wait for Rossi and JJ, knowing they could catch up quickly when they got back from the crime scene on their own. Derek told Hotch about his confrontation with the officer, and although Hotch did chastise him for his quick temper, Hotch also didn't seem particularly angry about it, even going so far as to give Spencer a quick wink right after finishing with Derek. Spencer felt bashful, offering a half apologetic smile before returning to the case info. After they went over everything, Spencer managed to catch Hotch alone in the break room.

“How are things with Jessica and Jack?” Spencer asked as he topped off his coffee.

Hotch looked down for a moment, only to straighten back quickly. “I agreed to let Jess have partial custody if she either moved in next door, or in with us. I don’t want Jack to have to go back and forth between households during cases. I understand that in terms of doctor appointments and school events, her having partial custody will be easier. I will admit, I can’t think of another person I’d rather take him in if anything happens to me.”

Spencer nodded. “So what is she going to do?”

“Well, if Jack has his way, she’ll be in our spare bedroom by the end of the month.” Hotch gave that soft smile he sometimes did when talking about his son. “He’s so excited to have ‘Aunt J’ around the house. Apparently the brand of laundry detergent she uses smells better.” He chuckled, dropping his head again.

Spencer gave a small laugh as well, and gave Hotch a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I’m sure it’s for the best, Hotch.”

“Thanks Reid.” Hotch nodded. “What about you?” He asked, raising his mug to his lips. “You seem like you're doing quite a bit better.”

_you don’t look sickly thin anymore, is what he means_  
Spencer blinked dumbly. “What?”

“You look like you’re taking care of yourself.”

_you look like you’re gaining weight_  
“Oh, yeah, I guess so. I’ve been trying to, ah, ‘chillax.’” He said, air quoting the last bit. In reality, he felt more stressed than usual. Trying to wage a metaphorical war against his own disordered behaviors was in many ways even more taxing than just allowing them to direct his actions. He might have been getting physically healthier, but mentally, he was struggling. Of course, not allowing those emotions to show provided an exterior appearance of improvement, while in reality Spencer wasn’t sure which scenario was worse; allowing his disordered behavior to guide him, or exhausting himself trying to counter it.


	39. Chapter 39

Spencer laid on the hotel room bed on his back, wearing nothing but his boxers. He ran a hand carefully along his ribs, across his pelvic bone, his collarbones. Laying down on one’s back always made one look slimmer. He sucked in his stomach, and he looked like death.

Spencer supposed that was one of the benefits of working in an office setting, where layers of work attire were expected, and in the field, where bulky kevlar vests could hide anything. It also helped that Spencer wasn’t a naturally touchy person. Well, at least he convinced himself that he wasn’t. Derek was very much a casual toucher, putting a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, mussing his hair, or nudging his arm. Emily and Penelope were always ones for a hug, which Spencer would be remiss to deny his own enjoyment of. But besides those occasions, Spencer did try to keep himself to himself. If he didn’t let anyone touch him, then they wouldn’t be able to feel his shoulder blades poking out a bit too much, or how his elbows prodded a little too sharply. Here alone, though, was another story. No one else could see the bruise on his hip where he bumped into the coffee table. No one else could see the faint outline of his sternum, an outline that was much more prominent when he had weighed ten pounds less. No one else could see that he could wrap his hands around his thigh, thumbs and middle fingers touching.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. One person could see.

The first time he was naked around Ben, he had been a bit too preoccupied at the start to overthink things as he usually did, but afterwards Spencer was doubly self conscious to make up for it. Ben made it simultaneously better and worse by layering on compliments heavily, repeating how ‘cute’ and ‘hot’ Spencer was; a slight juxtaposition, not that either of them would point it out.

But Ben also hadn’t made any comment on how slender Spencer was, and while part of Spencer was relieved to not have to confront such a topic, it also made him feel quite acutely that he wasn’t skinny _enough_. It made his attempts at recovery more difficult, but he knew he needed to keep trying.

Even before that, Ben had been extremely touchy, constantly swinging his legs over Spencer’s, holding him around the waist or looping their arms together, and all other manner of clinging. Spencer had initially been uncomfortable with it, not used to such blatant PDA, but found himself getting more used to Ben’s gestures. Spencer was very self conscious about being touched, but Ben never said anything about his small waist, his bony fingers, his anything else, and Spencer slowly but surely grew less tense under Ben’s touches.

A knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts abruptly, and he jumped up out of bed, throwing on pyjamas and a robe on top for good measure, and answered to see Derek and Emily, both holding up bags of chinese takeout. Emily was wearing a surprisingly childish looking set of blue button up pyjamas with ginger cats on it, and Derek had on sweats and a tank top.

“Hey guys, what are you doing?” He asked with a bright smile, letting the two in.

“The restaurant got our order wrong, but let us keep the extra food,” Emily explained, plopping the bag she was carrying onto the small table provided in the hotel. “JJ and Hotch already ate, and Rossi told us no thank-you, so you’re the lucky winner of a free dinner.” She pulled the table up to the bed so she could sit on the edge, letting the two boys have the chairs.

_yeah, ‘lucky’_  
“Thanks guys!” Spencer said, snooping in the bag.  
 _what’s the least offensive thing in here…_

“We were gonna watch Grey’s Anatomy in Em’s room, but we can watch something else if you want,” Derek said.

“Uh, no we can’t!” Emily exclaimed. “I mean are you kidding me? We’ve had this planned, the second the new season dropped we were gonna binge watch it.”

“I don’t mind,” Spencer said quickly. He had seen one or two episodes in the past with Penelope. “It’s not bad, although the medical inaccuracies are startlingly frequent in a show that takes place in a healthcare facility.”

“Yeah, that’s why it’s fiction, buddy. Besides, it’s more of a rom-dram than anything,” Derek laughed, reaching out a hand (presumably to fluff Spencer’s hair) before quickly dropping it again, reaching for the food. Spencer self consciously ran a hand through his still damp postshower hair. He probably looked like a ~~starving~~ drowned rat.

The three settled in for a mini-marathon, and Spencer picked at his food, eating only bits here and there. It was hard to watch Derek and Emily eat regularly, without a care in the world. He felt something akin to jealousy at their ability to just… be. 

When Spencer couldn’t help himself from pointing out painfully inaccurate procedures and unrealistic symptoms here and there, he’d quickly stop himself from launching into full explanations. He didn’t want to talk over the show, but he couldn’t help the comedy he found in it.

“Why don’t you go for a medical degree? I mean, it seems like you already know pretty much everything they’d teach you, and I know you’d have a free ride,” Derek asked during a commercial break.

“Maybe I will in the future, But it takes a long time to accomplish, and it’s not like I want to be a doctor in that way. It’d take time away from my career, and I like my current job.” Spencer explained. “I don’t want to leave the BAU.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want you to either.”

Emly flailed her chopsticks with a dramatized huff. “Yeah yeah, no one’s going anywhere, now hush, the show’s starting again!”


	40. Chapter 40

Spencer didn’t still have a crush on Derek.  
Spencer had a wonderful boyfriend named Ben who treated him amazingly.  
Spencer didn’t like Derek, because he liked Ben.  
He didn’t miss Derek calling him ‘pretty boy,’ because Ben called him ‘sweetie’ and ‘babe.’  
He didn’t miss Derek ruffling his hair, because Ben braided it when he laid his head in his lap and twirled his fingers through it when they kissed.  
He didn’t miss Derek pretend flirting with him, because Ben flirted with him with real intent behind it.  
He didn’t miss liking Derek and his feelings not being reciprocated, because he liked Ben and Ben liked him back.

But that didn’t mean he hadn’t noticed when Derek stopped calling him ‘pretty boy’ since he started dating Ben. Stopped hugging him. Stopped saying things to try and purposefully make him blush. Stopped finding excuses just to bother him.

Which was good of course. Ben would probably have taken it the wrong way if he heard or saw any of that. Ben was a bit possessive, in a cute way, and would get jealous if he saw someone a little too interested in Spencer. One time, Ben had pulled Spencer in for a sloppy open-mouth kiss after a waitress had winked at Spencer. She (and Spencer, for that matter) had turned bright pink and ended up giving their table to another waitress. Spencer had chided him for that, embarrassed by the situation, but Ben just gave him that cute, sly smile that he always used.

Spencer idly wondered if Derek was the jealous type with his girlfriends.

-

The team ended up wrapping up the case quickly, thanks in large to the police department’s strong presence. The chief hadn’t appreciated the way the rude officer (Callum, his badge read) had greeted Spencer and Derek, and had all but fired him before ensuring the rest of the force understood his zero-tolerance policy toward their attitudes while the FBI were there. The chief had pulled Spencer aside and mentioned that Callum was just mad because he had been passed over for a promotion, and he had been acting out all week. Spencer assured him that it was no big deal, and that he was more or less used to those kinds of comments.

Unfortunately for the team, the case wrapping up did not mean that they’d get to go home, because another case had been pushed through to them the second the killer was apprehended.

“Let’s try to wrap up as much of the report work for this case as we can tonight, then we can discuss the new case on the jet ride.” Hotch instructed, and Emily and Rossi groaned like children.

“I had a _date_ ,” Emily whined.

“ _Paperwork_?” Rossi said at the same time.

“We might as well all date each other, since you people are the only ones I _ever_ see,” Emily said dramatically, then eyed JJ. “Come on, drop the boy,” she joked.

“Oh no, I’m good, I had my experimental stage in college,” JJ laughed. “Wasn’t for me.”

Emily pouted. “Well, I guess if I had to, I could swing for…” She wrinkled her nose. “Aaron?” She said it haltingly. “But you’d have to promise to let me cheat on you.”

Even Hotch had to laugh at how ridiculous Emily was, and the team settled in to wrap up their paperwork as quickly as possible before turning in for the night.


	41. Chapter 41

133 pounds.  
He most certainly did _not_ break down and impulsively buy a small scale last night to check how much he weighed before the start of the next case. And that scale was most certainly _not_ crammed into the bottom of his go bag, cushioned by his clothing. Most importantly, he most certainly did _not_ have a minor anxiety attack over the number that blinked on the scale after weighing himself.

Spencer was trying so hard, but he was so drained. He wanted to do better, but every bite felt like hot coals. He knew, logically, that he had to eat a normal amount in order to be able to live a full life, much less keep his job; but emotionally, he felt like he was failing with every swallow, as though he were ruining something.  
_you **are** ruining something. you worked for so long, you got down to 118! That’s a number most people can only dream of. Now you weigh 15 pounds more, and why? Because you decided to give up? It was ‘too hard’? Bullshit. You’ve set your progress back over half a year. You weigh the exact same as you did in March. What was the point of losing the weight if you were going to decide to just put it all back on again?_

All of these thoughts and feelings felt like they were simmering under Spencer’s skin, buried in his bones and boiling in his brain, constantly threatening to spill out into the open, impossible to ignore.

“Hey Reid,” Derek’s voice pulled Spencer out of his thoughts, looking from the wispy clouds coating the sky outside the jet window to his friend sitting across from him, who was leaning forward in his seat, his brow furrowed in concern. “What’s eating at you?”

Spencer inwardly chuckled at Derek’s unintentionally ironic wording. “Just tired,” Spencer settled on, letting his gaze drift back to the window. It wasn’t entirely a lie; he had slept poorly, mostly because his brain just wouldn’t shut up.

Spencer found himself wanting for his boyfriend’s company. He slept easily with him, falling asleep to Ben talking aimlessly, running his hand through his hair. It was cheesy, but even though they hadn’t been dating that long (a few months, really), Spencer found himself more and more enamoured with Ben. In spite of how he initially came off, Ben was actually deceivingly intelligent. Although he wasn’t so much interested in focusing his learning in mathematics or physical sciences, he was interested in psychology, sociology, and philosophical principles. Although he didn’t much care for reading, he did like to listen to lectures, watch plays, and engage in debates. The thing was, he didn’t wear his knowledge and intellect on his sleeve; that is, it wasn’t an easily observable part of his personality. Instead, he displayed his interest in high fashion, he ranted about whichever tennis players he supported, he talked about celebrity gossip. Once when Spencer was spending the day at his house, Ben had shown him what he did for work. It was different from what Spencer had been expecting. Ben was one of the designers who helped decide what the finished electronic products looked like. He, quote, ‘made stuff aesthetically pleasing.’

Somehow, Spencer had become completely smitten for Ben. His bubbly, light personality and easygoing approach to life was like a breath of fresh air. He helped distract Spencer from work between cases, and never made him feel bad when he had to cancel a date due to a case, always giving a wink or a kiss with a promise to reschedule.

So when the jet landed and Spencer checked his phone, he was warmed to see Ben had sent him a flurry of emojis ranging from hearts to flowers to fruits (that didn’t actually symbolize fruits, as he had come to learn) and a message that read _‘sorry you have 2 work back2back cases :(( but i gave Amanda and her bf our dinner rsvp, so they owe us now ;)’_.

Spencer smiled and replied with a heart emoji before pocketing his device. He tried not to talk too much while on cases, lest it become a distraction, but Ben liked to check up on him frequently to make sure he was doing okay, knowing how dangerous his job could be. It was undeniably a nice feeling to know there was someone waiting for him back home, thinking of him.


	42. Chapter 42

His breaths came rapidly, air barely grazing his lungs before it was being pushed out again. His eyes were open, but he couldn’t see clearly, eyes pointed to what was supposed to be a starry night only to be met with dark panic clouding his vision. Hands were on him, likely applying firm pressure, but Spencer just felt pain. His ears still rang from the sound of the gunshot that pierced the quiet of the night. This time around hurt worse than the first.

“I’m fine, I’m good, I’m good,” He repeated like a mantra. “I’m fine, I’m fine- Don’t let them- Don’t let them get away-”

“No, Spencer, we won’t, but I need you to just focus on breathing right now, okay?” JJ’s voice was thin. “You’re gonna be just fine, okay? But I need you to just stay still.” Spencer hadn’t even noticed that he was moving.

Rossi was saying something, but Spencer couldn’t hear. Spencer could, however, hear the second gunshot of the night.

“EMILY!!” Derek’s voice rang out, and there were three more gunshots in quick succession. Spencer’s heart leapt into his throat.

“JJ, stay with Reid,” Hotch said from somewhere close to Spencer’s head, and he heard Hotch and Rossi take off, presumably in Emily and Derek’s direction.

The takedown was supposed to be easy. It was a trio of killers, and they were already fracturing. It was a surprise ambush on the team’s part, but somehow the trio were ready. The motel room had been abandoned, or so it seemed, and Spencer just barely caught a glimpse of one of the men sliding out of the bathroom window. Spencer made to follow, but was shot before getting the chance to pursue. Emily and JJ were closest, and Emily took off in the direction the shot came from while JJ called for the paramedics.

When Spencer was being loaded into the ambulance, he heard JJ tell the paramedics not to give him narcotics, and he mentally kicked himself for not mentioning it himself earlier. The EMT JJ spoke to took a vial out of the other’s hand, repeating what JJ had said. Spencer squeezed his eyes shut then, willing away the trilling in the back of his head at the thought of what could’ve been in that vial, how it could make this horrible ordeal go away…

-

“You’re lucky, the bullet grazed you pretty rough. Hurts like hell but the only thing you’ve got permanent damage on is some nerves.” Spencer’s doctor said. “There’ll be a scar, but you’ve gotten to keep your arm. No broken bones, no torn muscle, little physical therapy.”

“Yeah,” Spencer said quietly. The bullet had literally taken out a large chunk of his flesh from his upper arm. It was less of a ‘graze’ and more of a ‘burrow and rip’ in Spencer’s mind. There was going to be a scar.

When he was allowed visitors, the first person in the room was Emily, followed closely by Rossi. “Oh my god, you’re okay!” Spencer exclaimed, shooting up from his relaxed position. “We heard more gunfire, and I didn’t know if-”

“What, you think you're gonna get rid of me that easily?" She smiled, her own relief at seeing Spencer in one piece as well reflected in her expression. Her face fell, however, as she continued. "He got away, Spence. We got the other two, but, I’m sorry, he…” Of course she wanted to get the ringleader. It always turned personal when a team member was injured. “Local law enforcement are going to handle them from here, since we’ve already detained the other two with confessions. Hopped up on a dangerous mix of substances, legal or otherwise, and I’m willing to bet the third guy was too.”

“How’s your arm, kiddo?” Rossi changed the subject after a moment of quiet consideration.

“Oh, I’m having it chopped off,” Spencer joked, and some of the tension eased as the three laughed, the conversation turning a bit lighter.

Derek entered the room then, in a disheveled state. "Spencer!" Immediately the tension dropped from his shoulders, much the same as Emily's face had upon seeing him awake and okay. "God, kid, I-" Derek flung a hand about as though it could finish his sentence for him. Then his relief turned into annoyance. "How could you do that? Pursue three hopped up armed criminals without back up? Are you crazy??"

"They would have gotten away," Spencer defended himself softly, knowing that while he did technically break protocol, he didn't regret it.

"Sir, I _said_ only two guests at a time." An elderly nurse appeared at the door impatiently.

"Ma'am, we're with the FBI Behavioral Anal-"

Derek was cut off. "I don't care if your the president himself, young man. Rules are rules. Now one of you ought to leave before you're _all_ kicked out." She said, raising her eyebrows.

Emily whistled, eyes wide, and Rossi had to hold back a laugh. "Ookay, well then, how about I go tell the others how you're doing," Rossi excused himself, allowing Emily and Derek to stay a bit longer.

He was discharged that afternoon, but wasn’t cleared to fly, and he couldn’t drive because his arm limited mobility, which meant he’d have to hitch a ride back to Virginia. Thankfully, they were only a couple states over so the drive wouldn’t be too arduous. Derek ended up being the first to offer him a ride.

“They give you enough painkillers?” Derek asked when Spencer winced getting into the car.

“Yeah, I just hit it,” Spencer said, hugging his arm close to his body.

Derek watched him settle into the seat for a minute before shaking his head and starting the car. “This is the second time you’ve been shot, and you didn’t get off that cane that long ago. You’ve got to be more careful, kid.”

Spencer winced thinking about the first time he was shot. His reaction time wasn’t fast enough, he should’ve been quicker, more attentive… “You’re right,” Spencer agreed reluctantly.

“Good,” Derek nodded, practically scowling at the road. “Because I just about have a heart attack every time you manage to get yourself hurt.”


	43. Chapter 43

“Spence!” Ben came running up to Derek’s car from the steps leading into Spencer’s apartment complex. Derek put the car in park as Spencer got out.

“Hey Ben, what are you doing here?” Spencer greeted him with a quick peck, meeting him in front of the car before he got around to his side.

“Emily told me what happened, why didn’t you call me??” He chastised as he looked over Spencer’s arm. “Poor thing, I could’ve driven you home.”

“I was going to tell you. Not like I could hide it after all,” Spencer gave a reassuring smile. “And you didn’t need to drive all the way out there, Derek brought me back.”

Ben barely glanced at Derek, who was still standing on the driver’s side, leaning against the open door, and look that he did spare was one of distaste. “Yeah, well, anyway, let me help you with your stuff at least,” He said, motioning to Spencer’s go bag.

“Oh, it’s okay, I-” Ben cut Spencer off with a snort, simply taking the bag from him and heading back toward Spencer’s apartment. Spencer thanked Derek for the ride quickly before catching up to Ben.

“Do you want to order delivery tonight then?” Ben asked.

Spencer’s stomach sank. “I, um, already ate on the way back. But you can get something if you want.” He hadn’t actually eaten, but he also had no appetite.

Ben huffed. “Fine, but don’t go picking off my plate. I _mean_ it this time,” he said, referencing the last time Spencer had declined food. He had ended up eating almost all of Ben’s chips.

_fatass, pigging out on someone else’s food_  
“Ha, I promise,” Spencer said with a smile, and Ben smiled back softly before kissing Spencer gently.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, winding his arms around Spencer’s waist. 

“Yeah, I promise,” Spencer said, bringing a hand up to Ben’s face to envelope him in a reassuring kiss. 

“When Emily said you got hurt, my heart just about exploded.” Ben admitted softly. “Your job is so dangerous, and you’re just a sweet little thing… I hate the thought of someone else hurting you.”

“I know it is, but it’s worth it,” Spencer replied. “Helping people, keeping more people from dying...”

Ben cast his eyes down and buried his face in the crook of Spencer’s neck, squeezing him into a tight hug as a response. Spencer could only hug back with one arm, but it was still comforting.

“Did you at least get the guy?” Ben asked.

“Two of them,” Spencer said, slightly guarded. He knew where this was going.

“Two? Was one of them the one who pulled the trigger?” Ben asked. Spencer just shook his head, and Ben only held him tighter in response.


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE BITCHES!!!  
> MORE CHAPTERS!!!  
> i got rly excited talking to someone about this fic so now i Have to update yet again!! sorry for the spam but also not rly lol ;)  
> anyway, follow me on twt (@gwhump) if u want to i post a fuckton about criminal minds, other fandoms, and drabbly stuff. (18+ pls)

130 pounds.  
Gain or lose, give in or push back… either option was so hard.

“The injuries depend on the type of firearm used, velocity and trajectory, the caliber of bullet, where on your body you were shot, and how soon you were treated. Gunshot wounds can be particularly difficult because the trajectory and fragmentation of bullets can be unpredictable after entry and typically involve a large degree of nearby tissue disruption and destruction caused by the physical effects of the projectile correlated to the bullet velocity classification. The degree of tissue disruption caused by a projectile is related to the cavitation the projectile creates as it passes through tissue, meaning that a bullet with sufficient energy will have a cavitation effect in addition to the penetrating track injury. As the bullet passes through the tissue, first crushing before then lacerating, the space left forms a cavity called a permanent cavity. If the bullet is of a higher velocity, it can create a sort of wave of force from the pressure of its impact, causing the surrounding tissues to be forced away, creating not only a permanent cavity the size of the caliber of the bullet but a secondary cavity that is commonly bigger than the actual bullet itself. The secondary, or ‘temporary’ cavity is the radial stretching of tissue around the bullet's wound track, which momentarily leaves an empty space caused by high pressures surrounding the projectile that accelerate material away from its path. The extent of this cavitation can actually be estimated based on the equation ‘KE = 1/2mv2,’ wherein m is mass, v is velocity, and KE is the resulting kinetic energy. Velocity is valu-”

Spencer cut off with a wince as Ben tightened the gauze. It had been a couple days, and Ben was essentially his live-in nurse for the time being. Not that Spencer needed it, but Ben insisted, cleaning around his stitches and changing out his bandages frequently.

“Oh oh, sorry babe,” he said quickly, unwrapping it a bit to loosen it up. “Better?”

“Yeah, thanks. But to answer your question, yes, I’m lucky it didn't hit bone or muscle, but the velocity, mass, and trajectory i was hit with essentially took out a chunk of my arm anyway.” Spencer said quickly, not really having originally meant to go into such a detailed explanation.

“Poor thing…” Ben murmured as he finished up the bandage. He set the medkit on the coffee table before carefully worming his way into Spencer’s lap. “There, all patched up,” he said, and kissed Spencer. “Now, what was that about ‘trajectories’ and ‘velocity’?” Ben said in a syrupy voice. “You sound so cute when you start rambling…”

“I think you might have mentioned that before,” Spencer teased, wrapping his good arm around Ben’s waist securely. Ben’s hands were carding through the base of his hair, and instead of continuing his long winded lecture, he kissed Ben lazily, the two locked in their own little slice of paradise.

Well, minus the bullet wound.

And Spencer’s phone ringing.

Ben pouted when Spencer pulled away to grab his phone. It took him only a second to read the text, and when he looked back to Ben with an apologetic expression, Ben only pouted harder.

“I’m sorry, there’s a case…”

“Noooo, you, like, _just_ got shot after working two back to back! You’re telling me they won’t let you sit this one out??” Ben said in disbelief.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll be operating out of Quantico,” Spencer said, pulling Ben off his lap. “I’m still not cleared to be in the field, so I’ll be with PG, essentially consulting.” Ben rolled his eyes, but got up and grabbed his car keys. “You don’t have to do that,” Spencer said as he slipped on his shoes. “Derek can grab me on his way.”

“Like hell he can,” Ben said, opening the door a bit harshly. “What, he’s your bodyguard _and_ chauffeur?”

Spencer followed Ben out the door quickly. “Hey woah, do we need to talk about this?”

“I just think it’s funny that your boyfriend, me, is already here and perfectly capable of driving you, yet you’d rather get your coworker buddy to swing by, and what, leave me by myself?” Ben said heatedly.

Spencer blinked dumbly. “Are you… jealous?”

“Is there something I should be jealous of?” Ben countered, crossing his arms.

“No! No, Benji, Derek is _straight_ , I promise, nothing is going on there.” Spencer said quickly.

“Yeah okay sure, but you’re not.”

Spencer shook his head and opened the passenger door of the car. “We’re just friends, okay? I’m just used to having him drive me, but you’re right, I’ve got you for that now,” He gave a playful smile. “I like _you_ , obviously,” Spencer gave him a quick kiss before getting in the car. When Ben got in the driver’s seat and pulled off, he seemed calmer, though still a bit frayed.


	45. Chapter 45

The case was over quickly, which was a relief because Spencer and Penelope were going to have at each other’s throats if they were alone together at work for much longer. Penelope’s office was an irredeemable cluttered catastrophe, Spencer somehow kept losing his paperwork amongst her things, and Penelope practically bit his head off when he touched anything. Friends though they were, at work they were a more efficient team in separate spaces, to say the least.

When Spencer and Penelope greeted the others after they got off the plane, Rossi asked everyone to stick around. "I wanted to invite everyone out to dinner for our favorite resident genius's birthday." He said the last word in a sing song voice, grabbing Spencer and giving him a friendly little squeeze about the shoulders. “Big two-seven, what do you say?”

Everyone seemed to be in agreement, so as they started getting ready to go, Spencer called Ben to ask him if he wanted to come too.

"I thought we were going to do your birthday dinner tomorrow, on your actual birthday," Ben said.

"No I know, but I just mean for tonight. The team wants to do one as well and I thought you might want to come." Spencer explained. "We can still do ours if you want," Spencer said, trying to ignore his brain freaking out about the possibility of eating out two days in a row. "We have all day tomorrow."

"Fine, I guess we'll go. But only because I haven't seen Emily in ages."

-

Derek offered to drive Spencer to the restaurant, but he opted to ride with Emily instead. When they arrived at the restaurant. Spencer intentionally sat next to Rossi, away from Derek, Ben on his other side, next to Emily. Dinner went well, everyone chatting aimlessly and enjoying their meals. Spencer succeeded in giving most of his food to Ben under the guise of being too full to eat it all. Ben was distracted enough catching up with Emily that he didn’t notice exactly how much Spencer had slid onto his plate.

The night ran late, everyone staying to chat long past the point where their dishes were taken away. Drinks were bought by some, and chuckles turned to full laughter. Ben, who was already a hands-on person, turned even more so when imbibed, so it was no surprise to Spencer when Ben wound up with his arm linked to his, tracing mindless patterns on his hand as he giggled and nodded at Emily’s story she was entertaining the group with. When there was a lull in Ben’s participation in the conversation, he opted to kiss Spencer, which Spencer in turn made sure to keep short and chaste, embarrassed to be doing so at the table.

“Happy _early_ birthday, babe,” Ben said in a whispery, melodic voice. “How’s it feel to be 27?”

“You tell me,” Spencer joked. He couldn’t help the way he looked at Ben like he was the sun. He really was the perfect fit for the saying ‘ray of sunshine,’ not dissimilar to Penelope’s disposition. Spencer tore his eyes away from his boyfriend shyly, looking around the table, only to meet eyes with Derek.

He looked away quickly, but Spencer couldn’t help remembering his heated conversation with Ben earlier. He hadn’t admitted that he used to have a crush on Derek, lest it make Ben even more upset. It didn’t matter anyways, nothing had come of it, and it’s not like he still felt the same. Even so, he somehow felt guilty.

The more Spencer thought about it, the more he decided Ben was right, he really did have a, or used to have a, relationship with Derek that would understandably make a current partner jealous, or at least uncomfortable at times. It bothered him. 

As everyone started to get ready to leave, collecting their things and heading towards the door, Derek caught up with Spencer and Ben.

“Hey Reid, you feeling okay?” He asked, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the way Ben groaned under his breath. “I just wanted to check up on you, what with your arm, and you hardly ate anything…”

“I’m fine, the pain medication has an appetite suppressing side effect,” Spencer answered smoothly, annoyed at the fact that Derek had noticed him not eating.

“Yeah, but you didn’t eat with PG earlier, and I-”

“I’m fine, Derek,” Spencer said firmly. By this point they were outside, the crisp fall air biting into Spencer’s skin, only making his voice sharper. He hadn’t quite meant to sound as defensive as he did, but it was too late to correct himself now.

“Come on, Spencer, I parked down this way,” Ben said in a tone that verged on the smug side of disinterest.

“I’ll see you at work,” Spencer said almost dismissively, eager to end the awkward confrontation.

Derek looked between Ben and Spencer with hurt in his eyes and confusion knotted in his brow before shaking his head and walking in the opposite direction to Penelope’s car.

“Oh my god, he’s obsessed,” Ben snorted before steering Spencer in the direction of his car.

“No, he’s just… overprotective,” Spencer replied, trying to suppress a shiver as the breeze became stronger.


	46. Chapter 46

128 pounds.

The appetite suppressing medication excuse worked wonders on Ben. He didn’t question Spencer’s lack of appetite at all, even asking him, when he did eat, if it was making him nauseous. Ben was so severely enabling Spencer (unwittingly, of course), that any thoughts of trying to eat properly went out the window.

Ben practically moved into Spencer’s apartment, having brought clothes over from his own flat to supply him for a while. When Spencer broached the subject, Ben told him that he was stuck with him until his arm was completely healed.

“I don’t want something to happen and no one be there to help you,” he had pouted, and Spencer couldn’t help kissing the expression away, thanking him for being so sweet, even if it was needless worrying.

He drove Spencer to and from work, and forced Spencer to bring some organization to his living room. He cooked and cleaned when he himself had off days (his job was one that could be done from home, so he really only had to go into the office three days a week).

Ben ‘moving in’ brought only positive changes, and while Spencer had always enjoyed his solitude, he enjoyed Ben’s company more.

At work, both Penelope and Rossi noted a shift in his attitude, commenting on how nice it was to see him in a happy relationship. Hotch was finally convinced that Spencer was good to go, no longer laser focused on Spencer’s well being, and JJ and Emily forced relationship gossip out of him over the coffee machine.

Derek was the only one who didn’t seem to be in higher than usual spirits, which wasn’t such a mystery if one acknowledged the fact that Spencer had more or less been ignoring him for a week.

The next work day after Spencer’s birthday dinner with the group, Derek had pulled him aside and asked him about his relationship with Ben. He implied that Ben was being ridiculous in regards to Spencer and his friendship.

“I’m not trying to start anything, but I don’t think his behavior is healthy. He’s acting like us being friends is some kind of threat. Being overprotective and possessive is a classic red flag for an abusive relationship.”

Spencer was understandably angry at Derek for throwing out such an accusation. He immediately corrected Derek, saying that he was very happy in his relationship, and that jealousy, while not the healthiest thing to have in a relationship, was not an indicator for abuse as a stand alone. He told Derek that he was reaching, and that he was almost looking to have a problem with Ben.

“It’s like you can’t stand the thought of me being happy with someone just because, what, they don’t _like you_? I’m sure this might come as a shock to you Derek, but not everyone has to like you.”

That conversation had ended with both men’s blood boiling, and neither apparently intended to be the one to apologize. It didn’t escape the team’s notice, of course, but besides some carefully worded suggestions, they seemed to have decided to let them work it out themselves.

Of course, their version of ‘working it out’ amounted to ignoring each other for a few days, then acting as though nothing had happened, focusing their conversations on work only.


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is fluffy filler bc i wanted it  
> idky but this just seemed necessary  
> also, im terribly sorry for any typos, the dyslexia has been hitting hard this week :0  
> ok bye

127 pounds.

_Coffee. Now. Coffee in mug this second._

“Well, good morning,” Rossi greeted Spencer.

Spencer knew that tone. It was the tone of ‘wow, you look like hell.’ He gave a half-assed grunt in reply, too focused on watching the coffee pot slowly fill.

“Rough night?” Rossi pressed.

“Coffee Machine broke.” _and i slept in, and my arms hurts because i slept on it funny._

“Ah.” Rossi, to his credit, didn’t push further, respecting Spencer’s ability to have a bad day.

The second the pot finished brewing, Spencer filled his thermos to the brim. He handed off the pot to Rossi so he could top off his own coffee, then left the break room, blowing away the steam from his cup in an effort to hurry along the cooling process on his way to his desk.

And then he blinked, and his contact fell out of his eye due to the steam. Directly into his thermos.

“Fucking hell…” Spencer was about to lose his shit.

“Woah, Reid, what’s wrong?” Of course Derek was there, backpedaling after hearing Spencer’s muttered curses.

Spencer just stared into his mug, mentally yelling at the whole day. “My contact just came out.”

Derek looked from Spencer’s face, to his mug, and back to his face before letting out a laugh that shook his whole body. “Oh my God, that’s the worst luck.” Before he could muster up a sassy retort, Derek was taking Spencer’s mug out of his hand and replacing it with his own. “Here, you look like you need it more than I do anyways.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t-” Spencer started, flustered, but Derek waved away his concerns.

“I hadn’t even started on it yet. It’s black, no milk or anything. Seriously, it’s okay. I’ll dump this for ya.”

Spencer gave a small, bewildered thanks as Derek walked back the way Spencer had just come from, presumably to dump the mug out. He took a tentative sip from Derek’s mug, and continued on to his desk. He was probably a bit more grateful to Derek than would be strictly necessary, as he could practically feel the buzzing in his head subside as he nursed the 'bean juice.' He idly wondered if maybe he was becoming a bit _too_ dependant on coffee before shoving aside that thought for another day. He had to rummage for a minute, but eventually found his spare pair of glasses in the bottom of a drawer. He tossed out his remaining contact and scrubbed the lenses of his glasses clean before putting them on.

When Derek came back, Spencer’s thermos had been washed and refilled, lid screwed on to keep it warm. “Figured I’d save you a second trip,” Derek said, opting to use one of the office coffee cups they kept in the breakroom for himself.

“Thank you,” Spencer said, not hesitating to accept the mug. He was already almost halfway through with his first, not that anyone needed to know that.

“The glasses are a throwback,” Derek commented, getting comfortable on the edge of Spencer’s desk.

“Oh, yeah, well, I’m just relieved my prescription hasn’t changed,” Spencer said. “I kind of feel like a kid when I wear glasses,” he confessed. “I’m glad I finally got contacts.”

Derek smiled at that. “Aw come on, you know you’re gonna be ‘kid’ either way,” he teased. “And with the long hair, you kinda look like a hipster.”

“A what?”

“Uh, nevermind.”


	48. Chapter 48

129 pounds.

Spencer finishing his painkiller prescription lost him his best excuse to not eat, and Ben loved making them dinners. Spencer couldn’t bear to disappoint his ‘own personal chef’ (Ben’s words). He could get away with small portions, but Ben always made sure he ate _something_ when he was there. It got to where Spencer pretty much only ate real food with Ben.

“You’re cuter when you’ve got a little meat on your bones,” Ben joked, poking Spencer’s stomach after dinner one night.

Spencer purged that night (despite his fiercest attempts not to) while the shower was running, emotions swirling. Ben said he was cuter, but he had also indicated that Spencer was visibly fatter, which sickened him.

Ben also still spent around four nights a week at Spencer’s even after his arm was almost entirely healed, despite his jokes that he was only there until Spencer was better. Spencer didn’t really mind, though, beyond being forced to eat those nights. Penelope came over for movie nights, and Emily visited for dinner a couple times. JJ had brought by Henry on the way home from a check up, and Ben gushed over how cute he was for almost an hour after they left. Amanda invited Ben and Spencer out on a double date, and then soon after that a triple date with Emily and her new girlfriend.

Spencer felt like he was in the ever-coveted ‘domestic bliss’ (ignoring the minor issue of his eating, that is).

“How do you know when you’ve found ‘the one’?” Spencer asked Hotch one day when work was slow.

“The one?” Hotch repeated in an amused tone. “I didn’t think you were the type to believe in that sort of thing.”

“Oh, I’m not,” Spencer replied quickly. “I was just wondering… Hypothetically, if someone were to have a specific predetermined destined soulmate, say, due to certain genetic coding being more compatible…” Spencer laughed softly at how silly he sounded, shaking his head.

Hotch humored the romanticist in Spencer. “Well, _hypothetically_ , of course, I suppose it’d be when you form an effortless connection with someone. Not that you never fight, because everyone fights sometimes, but the bond you form is easy, natural. Even if you’re not in a romantic relationship, the bond would still be there.” Hotch’s tone went from light and thoughtful to wistful, and Spencer knew he was thinking about Haley.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said softly, not needing to elaborate.

Hotch gave Spencer a small smile. “No need to be.” He fiddled slightly with his wedding band, worn on his fourth finger, but on the opposite hand, before busying himself with the files laying in disarray on his desk. “I’m happy for you, Reid.”

Of course, as is the way of things, the two men’s sentimental moment was broken up by a distressed JJ sticking her head in the door. “Sorry to interrupt... We're gathering in the conference room, we’ve got a case.”


	49. Chapter 49

A family annihilator was taking out families with single child preteen boys. All the families were white upper middle class, likely a reflection of the unsub’s own family. The MO was very specific: the fathers were strangled, the mothers were stabbed, and the boys were shot. In other words, the fathers were murdered in a way that established brute force dominance, the mothers were murdered in a way that allowed for sadistic sexual gratification, and the boys were murdered in a way that distanced the unsub from their victim. It was likely that the fathers were the primary targets, while the mothers were secondary and the boys were considered mercy killings. While the very precise MO indicated only one unsub, a partner couldn’t be ruled out without further examination, especially due to the large variations in killing methods.

Spencer walked through the latest crime scene, using what evidence there was to recreate the macabre scenario. Blunt trauma to the back of the father’s head; incapacitate the biggest threat. He had been tied up, whether by the unsub or by another family member with a gun trained on them was to be determined. The wife had been cuffed by the wrists and ankles to the bed, although again it was yet to be confirmed if the unsub brought the restraints with them, or they had prior knowledge of a BDSM aspect to the now deceased couple’s relationship and knew they owned such restraints already. Everyone had been killed in the same room, the master bedroom, meaning whichever family member was killed last was forced to watch the other two die. If the father was killed last, it could tie into the unsub’s desire to display dominance, but if the sons were mercy killings then there was a 50/50 chance they were either killed first to spare them seeing the scene or last so they wouldn’t have to live after having seen the events unfold.

JJ walked through the rooms of the house with him, likely drawing the same conclusions.

Spencer’s phone rang, and he excused himself from the crime scene to answer.

“Hello?”

“Babe! Listen, Ceria invited me to a runway show she got into! She’s gonna be on the catwalk, Isn’t that _so_ exciting?? It’s in a couple days, but I wanted to see if you could come with me.”

Spencer mentally kicked himself. They had only left for this case earlier that day, and he had forgotten to let Ben know.

“I’m sorry, the team _just_ got sent out on a case,” He explained quickly.

Ben reacted pretty much exactly the way Spencer predicted. “What? When did that happen? Why didn’t you tell me? Where did you get sent to?” The flurry of questions came quickly, and Spencer waited quietly for Ben to calm down before replying.

“We got in just a few hours ago. I was going to call you, but we ended up being unexpectedly busy. I would’ve texted you tonight.”

“Tonight? You seriously couldn’t take like three seconds to text me earlier??”

“Ben…” Spencer sighed. “Please don’t make something out of this. I promise if I could’ve, I would’ve.”

Spencer could almost hear Ben pouting through the phone. “I didn’t get to say bye…”

“I’m sorry Benji,” Spencer said sweetly, placating. “But I’ll be home soon okay? Go have fun at Ceria’s show, and you can tell me about it when I get back in town.” Spencer’s phone beeped then, indicating another incoming call. “I gotta go, but we’ll talk later.”

“Ugh, fine. Love you, bye!”

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat. His mind raced, yet simultaneously went blank as a comically large grin broke out across his face.

That was the first time Ben had said that.

After a second of dumbfounded silence, Spencer realized he likely ought to say it back. “Y- yeah, love you too.”


	50. Chapter 50

Elijah Miller’s parents were not grade A people, to say the least. The foster mother Rossi and Spencer spoke to, Ms. Berrie, told them all about how he was brought up before being brought to her foster home, and the two relayed the information to the rest of the team soberly.

Both of his parents were sex workers, but not in the traditional sense. They worked exclusively via online chats and videos, and they made their son act as a cameraman. When social services intervened, he was taken to live in a foster home, where he was then sexually abused by a male guardian further. By the time he came under Ms. Berrie’s care, his trauma ran deeply. He went on to molest younger foster kids in the house, have severe episodes of anger and depression, and was in and out of juvie until he ran away from his foster home at age 16. At that point he fell off the grid completely, until the killings started, 17 years later.

They pinned him as being at the latest crime scene via DNA evidence, of which wasn’t present at the previous two, indicating that he was getting sloppy. The real question was, what triggered Elijah to return to his hometown and start killing, and where was he now?

The BAU's resident miracle worker (aka technical analyst) was working furiously to find out.

“I can’t _believe_ I missed this,” Penelope’s ever-energetic voice rang through the phone, on speaker so everyone could hear.

“What do you see, baby girl?” Derek asked, leaning back in his chair and fiddling with a pen.

“Elijah Miller disappeared off the grid because he stopped going by Elijah Miller and started going by Ethan Berrie. He moved literally across the country to California and started a life for himself. He had a steady job, was going to therapy, looks like he even had a girlfriend… Except for the fact that he found out she was cheating and oh boy, her social media was full of dramatics… Then shortly after that he was laid off, that’s a two-for-one on the triggers. Right after that he’s got a paper trail headed right to you guys.”

“Garcia, do you have an address?” Hotch asked quickly.

“Not yet Sir, looks like he’s been cash-only since arriving in town, but rest assured I will keep digging.”

“Make sure to scour motel video surveillance,” Hotch said, and they disconnected the call.

“What a sad life,” Emily sighed as she added the new information to their board.

“Still seems a bit drastic to take a 35 plus hour road trip,” JJ replied while chowing down on a bag of cheetos. “Why not just start killing in Cali?”

“It’s important for these people to return to the scene of their original trauma. It provides a sense of familiarity, and finalization.” Rossi said, stealing one of her chips.

“Reid, you got anything to add?” Derek asked.

…

“Reid?”

“Hm?” Spencer snapped out of it, having zoned out completely. He had been distracted the second JJ pulled out the bag of chips, and since then was more focused on an aching hunger than the actual case. He hadn’t eaten since the last time he saw Ben, which wasn’t recent.

“I said, do you have anything to add?” Derek repeated, eyeing him carefully.

“Uh yeah,” Spencer cleared his throat. “So he’s obviously sentimental towards the people in his life who have treated him well, what with using the last name Berrie, and he doesn’t appear to display any antisocial behaviors, so we could look into seeing if he has any old friends that still live in the area, even other kids from juvie he knew, see if we can get any leads that way.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll get started on that,” JJ said, licking her fingers before pulling out her phone. “I’ll contact Ms. Berrie and see if she knows of anyone who fits.”


	51. Chapter 51

Spencer sat in an office of the local pd, reviewing the facts of the case, when the scent of Mexican food wafted in. He still hadn’t eaten. It had been 53 hours since he last ate. Not the longest he'd gone, but too long for being on an active case. The scent of fresh, hot food only served as a reminder of that fact. His mouth watered, his stomach churned, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist saying yes if someone offered-

“Hey p- Spencer, we just ordered take out. You should come get in on this,” Derek said, leaning against the doorway.

_no thanks, i already ate. i’m not hungry. i’m not in the mood for mexican. i’ll eat when i wrap this up. i’m-_  
“Yeah, yes, thanks,” Spencer was already out of his chair, paperwork forgotten as he followed Derek.

Despite his initial response, he had immediate regrets when he saw the food. It was all… too much. Too big servings, too greasy, too heavy, too bready, too too too… He didn’t know what he could eat. Derek and Rossi were all already digging in, making their plates, and Hotch and Emily chatted while waiting for their turn. Spencer’s eyes swam. He’d have to find something he could eat.

_no, you just **want** to eat_  
Spencer grabbed a plate and went for the chicken fajitas, feeling like the bell peppers, tomatoes, onions, and grilled chicken were safer than most of the other options available. He skipped the tortillas, though, and the cheese, and the rice, and the sour cream… He started to make his way back to the office space he had commandeered, only to be stopped by Derek.

“Hey, take a break man, come on, you’ve been staring at that file alone all day,” he said, waving Spencer over to a seat beside him. “We aren’t gonna make any progress until JJ or Garcia get back to us.”

Spencer couldn’t think of a good excuse to decline, so he sat down, feeling extremely self-conscious about the food on his plate. But neither Derek nor anyone else said anything, and the group fell into easy conversation as they ate, Spencer trying to limit how much he picked at his food between bites.

They were only halfway done with their dinner when Hotch’s phone went off.

“JJ?”  
“Where?”  
“And?”  
“Alright, we’re on our way.”  
Hotch snapped his phone shut, and everyone started scurrying to get ready to head out before he even needed to tell them, meals forgotten. “JJ tracked down a motel owner who used to know Ms. Berrie, Garcia reviewed the security footage and saw Elijah entering and leaving the building multiple times. She’s sending the address now, let’s move.”


	52. Chapter 52

Spencer’s hands were steady, and his voice didn’t shake despite the dire situation, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t anxious. It just meant he had seen this exact scenario one too many times. Elijah held the motel owner at gunpoint, using him as a human shield from Spencer and Rossi’s guns. They were in a stand-off, the rest of the team outside anxiously waiting.

“You don’t want to hurt him, Elijah,” Spencer said carefully, although in truth he wasn’t even that worried about the man. Elijah was far more likely to kill himself first. That’s what he had been acting out the whole time, after all.

“How- how could you know what I want?!” Elijah shouted, pushing the gun more firmly against his hostage’s head.

“Because he’s not the one who hurt you, is he? In fact he’s been helping you, right? Letting you stay here? He hasn’t done anything to you, he’s not the one you want to take your pain, your anger out on.”

"I- I-" Elijah looked around himself wildly, as though a retort would make itself known from outside of himself. In that moment of distraction, Spencer lunged forward and disarmed him, twisting Elijah's wrist to force him to drop the gun before yanking his hand behind his back. At the same time, Rossi grabbed the motel owner, shooing him outside to where officers were waiting.

Elijah sank to his knees as Spencer positioned his hands to cuff them behind his back. "Just kill me," He said, voice weak in defeat. "Just put me out of my misery."

"That's not my call," Spencer said, but softened ever so slightly in pity. There was always a degree of pity for these types of killers, in a way. The misguided, the delusional, the abused. Of course, it didn't excuse their crimes, but it did add a layer of complexity to what would otherwise be pure cruelty and evil.

And it certainly didn't make it hurt any less when Elijah abruptly shot his hand out behind him before Spencer had finished cuffing him, a shiv seeming to materialize out of nowhere and bury itself in Spencer's arm. Before Spencer even had time to fully register the pain, Elijah was crouched behind him, the sharp point of his makeshift weapon pressed close to his throat.

"Kill me!" He yelled at Rossi, whose gun was back up and leveled between Elijah's eyes.

"Put the weapon down," Rossi said stonily.

"Elijah, listen to me, it doesn't have to end like this, okay? You don't have to do this, you can-" Spencer cut off as Elijah dug the blade slowly into his skin, enough to pierce the skin but not enough to finish the job.

"Shut. Up." Elijah growled through his teeth, then addressed Rossi again. "You want your teammate dead? HUH?!"

Elijah twitched his hand that held the weapon, and in the same second was dead, Rossi having taken the shot. Spencer touched his throat, and his hand came away slightly bloodied, but nothing too severe. Police entered the premises due to the gunfire, and the rest of the team met Rossi and Spencer at the door.

“Oh, Spence…” JJ muttered, seeing his neck.

“I couldn’t save him,” Spencer said quietly.

“He didn’t want to be saved,” Rossi replied, clasping his shoulder. “You did everything you could.” That wasn’t the first time that line had been used on Spencer, and it wasn’t any more reassuring this time then it had been previously. The requirement of _wanting_ to be saved...

“Hey, wait a minute...” Derek grabbed Spencer’s arm, causing him to flinch and make a slightly embarrassing sharp noise. “How bad is that?”

“Uh…” Spencer felt like that was a trick question. “I was just going to get it looked at?” He offered, nodding toward the paramedic on standby.

Emily rolled her eyes and grabbed his good arm. Spencer tried not to tense at that. “Come on Reid, let’s go.” She started leading the way over to the ambulance. “Why is it always you?” She asked, playful but exacerbated.

_because i’m the weakest on the team, because i’m not careful enough, because i’m not as good at the confrontation part of the job as the rest of you, because i don’t meet the requirement of wanting to be-_  
“I don’t know, Em. Bad luck, I guess.”


	53. Chapter 53

Ben was pissed.

“How did your _team_ let this happen? Aren’t they supposed to _’have your back’_? I’m sick of you always coming home hurt!”

“It’s nothing, I didn’t even need stitches,” Spencer tried to calm him down. “And they did have my back, Rossi is the reason I’m not dead.”

“No, that job is the reason you were in that situation in the first place. You know I support your career, but you have to think about yourself too.” Ben countered. “I don’t see Derek or Emily or any of those other ones coming back beat up all the time.”

“That’s because the unsubs often like to target those who they deem lesser threats, someone they can control easier-”

“Yeah, so why have you out in the field at all if you’re going to be targeted?!”

“Because it would then just default to someone else, it doesn’t matter who is or isn’t in the field, if someone is going to be hurt then it’s going to happen. I’d rather have a few cuts and bruises rather than let a killer keep taking innocent people’s lives.”

“Bullshit. Why does it have to be one or the other?”

“Hey… I’m okay, really. I’ve been through a lot worse than this.” Spencer smiled sweetly, tilting up Ben’s chin.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Ben asked, allowing himself to be guided closer to Spencer.

“Yes,” Spencer confirmed with a little kiss.

Ben trailed his fingers up Spencer’s arm to where the wrapping from his injury could be felt through his shirt. “You have little scars, here and there,” he said in a quiet voice. “Little pieces of your history embedded in your skin. All the killers and crazies who have managed to get their hands on you…” Spencer couldn’t help tensing a bit, self-conscious. It’s not like he had that many scars… “You wear your life well,” Ben said, and kissed Spencer’s cheek, then the small cut on his neck, then his arm, even through the fabric.

“Um, thank you, I think?” Spencer replied awkwardly. It _sounded_ like it was a compliment but it was also kind of uncomfortable. No one had ever taken any notice to his scars before. And he had certainly never thought about them in any such respect before.

“Hmm…” Ben made a noncommittal noise. “Did you request off that week yet?” He asked, referencing an earlier conversation while winding his fingers through Spencer’s hair. Ben’s friend was letting him borrow his lakehouse, and Ben wanted him and Spencer to go on a minivacation together to give Spencer a break from work.

“Yep, I’ve gotten all the days. Unless of course there’s an emergency.” Spencer confirmed.

“Good,” Ben said, brightening a bit. “Just you and me, no ‘unsubs’ or crime scenes…” His lips were back at Spencer’s jaw. “We deserve a little break, don’t you think?”

Spencer couldn’t help but agree with that sentiment.


	54. Chapter 54

126 pounds.

Losing weight before a trip was a bit silly, Spencer would admit, but not as silly as feeling gross and fat the entire time he was supposed to be relaxing and having fun. He conveniently ignored the fact that due to the nature of his disordered eating habits, he’d likely always feel that way even if he were only 100 pounds.

_100 pounds, now that’s a goal…_  
Spencer was one millisecond from audibly telling his own brain to shut up. Really the only reason he didn’t was because he wasn’t in his own home, alone. Instead he was at work, twirling a pen in his hand and only halfway focusing on the seminar. Apparently the FBI decided it was important to hold an ‘inclusivity day’ hosted by the HR department. Spencer wouldn’t really mind one way or another, if it weren’t for the fact that it was all showmanship. The only reason it was being held was because someone filed a harassment complaint, and this was their way of shutting them up and preventing a lawsuit.

Derek and Penelope were whispering and giggling away on Spencer’s left, Emily looked numb to the world, seconds from falling unconscious on his right, and so far he had counted three awkward looks his (and two Emily’s) way from various employees who he didn’t know well enough to care about the opinions of, but who knew enough about him (and Emily) to know that they were ones to be… ‘included’. Yep, seems about right. His mom would get a kick out of this when he told her about it. She hated formalities like this.

“Hey,” Derek caught Spencer’s attention. He held up a box of chewy fruity candies, rattling it quietly. Spencer could see Penelope snacking on a few out of her hand. “You want some?” Derek offered.

Spencer had to actively pause to reign in his sweet tooth before replying. “No thanks, I’m not hungry,” He said.

“... It’s candy. This isn’t the kind of thing you eat ‘cause you’re hungry, dummy,” Derek said, his tone bouncing in silent laughter. “You eat it ‘cause you want it. So… Do you want some?”

Spencer felt like he was about to sprout a headache from hearing that.  
 _no, i most definitely do NOT want to EAT_  
 _oh, i was quiet for a second too long, and Derek is starting to look at me funny…_  
“Sure,” Spencer said quickly to appease his friend. He held out his hand and Derek dumped onetwothreefour pieces into it. Four chewy, sugary, calorie-dense pieces…

Spencer popped two in his mouth at the same time, chewing very slowly. He went to swallow, but found himself completely unwilling to do so. The two pieces just… sat in his mouth. He faked a swallow, just in case, and popped the other two in his mouth, again chewing slowly without swallowing. He stayed in his seat for a couple of minutes, then excused himself to the restroom. As soon as the door was closed, Spencer was spitting out the gobs of chewed up candy into the toilet, and kept spitting until his saliva wasn’t thick with the stuff. He washed his mouth out with sink water, careful to not swallow any of it, and after a second of hesitation, started picking at his teeth, just in case anything was still stuck in between. Afterwards, he washed his hands thoroughly and went back out to his seat, pretending that what just happened did not in fact happen.

He checked his phone as he sat back down, and saw a text from Ben.

_B: nxt week is gonna be sooo fun, just bought sum stuff 4 the trip ;)_

Spencer smiled softly at the message.

_S: I can’t wait. :)_


	55. Chapter 55

124 pounds.

Spencer practically skipped out of the building after his shift ended. Penelope wished him well, seeming almost equally excited as Spencer himself, and Hotch told him not to be late next Monday. Rossi told him to stay out of trouble. Everyone on the team knew exactly where he was going and how long he’d be gone because it was all he talked about for the last five days. He met Ben in the parking lot, and gave him a quick kiss after getting in.

“We’ll go back to your place to grab your bag, then let’s hit the road,” Ben said, giving him a water bottle.

Spencer agreed easily, sipping on the water as Ben drove, and when they got to his apartment, Spencer told Ben he’d only be a minute and he could just wait in the car.

Ben snorted at that. “C’mon, you know that’s not gonna happen,” he chastised Spencer playfully. “Besides, I think I left my phone charger here yesterday. I’m on like 6%.”

They started up the stairs, but Spencer paused midstep, suddenly dizzy.

“You okay Spence?” Ben asked from behind him, hand on his waist supportively.

_when was the last time i ate?_  
“Yeah, yeah I’m okay, sorry.” Spencer said, not really of mind to come up with some reasonable excuse. He started up the stairs again, having to focus on the steps. He kept waiting for the small burst of dizziness to pass, but it didn’t. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse. By the time they made it to his door, Spencer knew something was really wrong. It couldn’t just be a result of his poor diet. “Hey, Ben…”

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Ben asked, eyes wide with concern.

“I’m not… sure…” Spencer felt disoriented. “I think… I’m going to… pass out…” Panic was clouded by confusion and a weighted, almost numb feeling.

“Spence? Let’s get you inside, okay?”

“...Yeah…”


	56. Chapter 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS !!!!!!
> 
> these next couple of updates are pretty fucking scummy, so if you have ANY triggers i HIGHLY suggest taking a moment to read this, spoilers be damned. everything should already be tagged in the fic tags, but just in case, i want to reiterate it here.
> 
> \- blood, cutting, switchblade, physical violence, assault  
> \- restraints, confinement, being tied down  
> \- rape, sexual assault, non-consensual intimacy  
> \- drugging (roofies and dilaudid)  
> \- loss of trust, betrayal, taking advantage, abusive relationship  
> \- kidnapping / abduction / captivity
> 
> \- if you feel i've missed ANYTHING, let me know and i will add it asap

When Spencer woke, he was in his bed. That would’ve been somewhat reassuring if not for the gag stuffed in his mouth and his ankles and wrists being cuffed to each corner of the bed.

 _what the hell… Ben??_  
Spencer tossed his head around, trying to see who had drugged him, if Ben was okay, but his room was frustratingly exactly as it always was, the darkness cut by yellow tinted lamplight. The lack of light from his window indicated he had been out for at least 4 hours, if not longer. He shifted his hips and noticed the absence of his phone from his pocket. Of course. Spencer’s heart thumped loudly in his chest as his mind raced wildly, combatting the remaining fuzziness from being drugged, trying to figure out what cases they had worked in which someone would’ve been pissed enough to track him down. Maybe it was the unsub that had shot him in the arm and gotten away?? No, it didn’t match his M.O…. Spencer heard movement from somewhere else in his apartment, and he held his breath as footsteps came closer to his door.

When the door opened, Ben was there.

Spencer tried to call out to him, in both relief to see him okay, and fear that whoever was after him was still in his apartment, but Ben remained strangely calm as he approached Spencer.

“Hey cutie, I’m glad you finally woke up,” Ben said with a sweet smile. “You were out for, like, six hours.”

_what?_

“I mean, I gave you such a _tiny_ dose, I didn’t think it’d take you this long to wake up. Oh, yeah, sorry about the gag, you _know_ how much I love your voice, but I need to talk first, okay?” Ben continued, “At least for now, and if you behave then I can take it off.”

Then it clicked.

No, it didn’t click. It slammed into place, like two planets hurtling through space colliding at such a velocity that both were destroyed, leaving only dust of once was in their place.

 _no, no, nonononono…_  
Spencer tried desperately to come up with any explanation.  
_Ben’s just into BDSM, Ben’s just terrible at practical jokes, Ben’s just- Ben just-_

“Do you like the cuffs?” Ben asked conversationally. “I think they’re soo cute, a little chunkier than I’d personally prefer, but then again, nothing’s perfect.” Ben scooted a chair up to the side of Spencer’s bed and sat down.

Spencer couldn’t stand to look at Ben. He felt sick. He closed his eyes and pushed the side of his face into his pillow, as though attempting to shut out reality.

“Oh, you must be so confused…”

_no shit_

“It’s always so cute.”

 _always?_ Ben spoke as though he had done this before. Spencer realized quickly that Ben likely had in fact done this before. But Spencer didn’t even know what _this_ was.

“First, I need you to know you’re very special to me. At first you were just like any of the others, but… Ah, what can I say, I got attached.” Ben was using his ‘innocent tone’ he used when he was saying something he knew was vaguely bad, only due to the current circumstances, it took on a new edge in Spencer’s ears. “I’ve dated you longer than anyone else. They all only lasted, oh, maybe three months, tops. But you are much more interesting. I knew that if I was going to have you, _really_ have you properly, I’d have to be patient.” Ben trailed a hand down Spencer’s chest, and Spencer shuddered, disturbed that the sensation was so familiar yet completely unknown. “The _second_ you opened that mouth of yours, I knew I was going to eat you up. Hell, I wanted to take you home and open you up that very night, but I’m so glad we waited. Something about it all is… more intense, if it’s like this. And now… I have a _full week_.” A hand wound itself in Spencer’s hair, and he was made to turn his head back to face Ben. “Look at me.” Spencer opened his eyes unwillingly, only to see Ben’s familiar, soft features and wide eyed face.

Everything was wrong. This couldn’t be _Ben_. Ben wasn’t some insane psychotic killer. Ben was a sweet boyfriend who cooked dinner and giggled too much and quoted plays and pouted when he didn’t get his way. Spencer would’ve _known_ , would have seen the signs if Ben was unstable.

“I love that look in your eyes. What is it? Anger, sadness? A hint of betrayal? I’m going to take the gag off now, but you have to promise you won’t scream, okay? You don’t want to bother the neighbors.” Ben said softly, and Spencer nodded profusely, but froze when Ben pulled out a _fucking switchblade_. “I won’t hurt you, not if you’re good, okay?” Ben was reassuring him as though he were an injured animal, and slowly rose from his seat to instead get on the bed, straddling Spencer’s waist and leaning forward, knife grazing along the fabric of his shirt. Spencer didn’t have much choice in the matter but to let it happen, any small inkling of a plan to yell anyways gone when the blade trailed across his chest. When Ben removed the gag, knife level with Spencer’s jugular, Spencer flexed his jaw slowly, but waited to speak lest he trigger Ben into using the blade. “Come on, say something,” Ben said impatiently after a bloated moment.

Spencer knew there were likely more clever, revealing questions he could ask, but right now, his heart aching and his mind racing, emotions won out and all he could ask was, “Why?”

Ben looked disappointed. “Oh… I thought you’d ask something more interesting…” Ben settled his weight onto Spencer, then, crossing his arms over Spencer’s chest and resting his head on top, his face inches from Spencer’s own. “But the ‘why’ is simple. It’s because I like it. I like lulling someone into security, I like pulling the strings, and I like taking everything away.” Ben freed one of his arms from under himself so he could play with Spencer’s hair. His touch was gentle, and Spencer had to close his eyes again to keep tears from welling up. His words were sickening. “Ah ah, look at me… But most importantly, I like breaking people apart. But you, you’re broken all the time, aren’t you? I hate that, you know. So many other people have gotten to draw your blood before me, play with your head… I’ll have to make this long week extra special for us, won’t I? It’s just you and me.”

 _Over a week…_ Friday night through next Monday morning spent kidnapped by his boyfriend. It felt like some shitty low budget gore flick. He laid his head back and stared at the motionless fan blades on his ceiling, trying to pretend that this wasn’t happening. That he wasn’t being held hostage in his own home, that there wasn’t the point of a switchblade sharply pressing into his chest, that Ben wasn’t kissing down his neck and collarbones, that none of this was real…


	57. Chapter 57

“I said look at me, sweetie.”

Spencer ignored him, earning himself another ribbon of pain across his chest, flinching away hard, straining against the cuff holding his arms taut. His clothes, practically in ribbons, had been discarded and Spencer was busy trying to imagine himself anywhere but there.

Ben tutted. “If you just listened to me, we wouldn’t have to do this.”

_go to hell_

Another hot flash of steel on skin, and Ben was craning Spencer’s jaw between his fingers. “Look at me, eyes down here. The ceiling is much less interesting than me.” Spencer could hear the pout in his voice.

“I disagree.” Spencer earned a punch across the face for that one.

“Don’t be rude, Spence,” Ben said with a whine, as though he hadn’t just decked Spencer across the face. As though he wasn’t holding a still-bloody switchblade in his other hand. “But I’m glad you’re talking to me,” He continued, running a hand through Spencer’s hair.

Well, that made Spencer far less keen on opening his mouth again.

Unfortunately, Ben had the exact opposite idea. “Tell me something interesting, let me hear you talk,” Ben said, eyes shimmering.

“Here’s something interesting for you; they always look to the significant other _first_ in murder or disappearance cases. In over 70 percent of murder cases, the victim knows the killer, and of that group, nearly 30 percent are family members or significant others. You said I’m not the first, right? How do you think that trail of missing exes is going to look to investi-” Spencer cut off his angry tirade when Ben started laughing, muffling his own mouth with a hand. “What?”

“Oh, sorry, sorry, it’s just… you actually think I should be worried about that,” Ben calmed his laughter and fluttered his hand back down to Spencer’s chest. “I told you, Spence, you’re special. I love you so much, I’ll never be able to take anyone like you again.”

Spencer swore his heart, previously thudding in his chest, stopped cold. Spencer knew, then, that Ben wasn’t going to kill him and hide the evidence before skipping town (as he had shared that he had before). No, this was Ben’s magnum opus. _He_ was. Ben figured himself some sort of macabre artist, and after his final masterpiece, he would be finished himself. Ben didn’t plan on getting out of here alive. Spencer being an FBI agent with a team of agents who would hunt down his killer didn’t matter at all, because Ben’s final triumph would be going out how _he_ chose, and only _after_ he finished with Spencer.

That was Ben’s profile.

And for someone in Spencer’s position, it was the worst conclusion to come to.


	58. Chapter 58

Dilaudid.

Ben practically swung the vial in front of Spencer’s nose.

Spencer’s breath quickened. Of course Ben knew about Spencer’s past addiction. And now there it was, an arm’s length away, and Spencer’s mind skipped like a broken record.

“Don’t.” The word came out strangled. “Please, please Ben, not that.”

“Hey, hey, shhh love,” Ben reassured him. “It’s okay, babe. It’s just to make you feel better, I _know_ those cuts hurt, right?”

_yes_  
“No.”

“I hate it when you lie to me, Spence. It’s been a long night, it’ll help you relax. Do you even _know_ how much I dropped on a weeklong supply? Oh wait, maybe you do...” Ben smiled in amusement.

Spencer fought, but he knew it was in vain. Ben pinned his thrashing arm and administered the drug, the slight pinch from the needle a far too familiar feeling. The fight went out of Spencer, and as he waited the five to ten minutes for the drug to kick in, Ben curled up in the bed beside him, _snuggling_ him. Spencer stared at the ceiling, playing chess in his mind.

When the board started to be harder to see, and he started forgetting where he had moved pieces, he knew the dilaudid was taking effect. When he started growing warm, a flush coating his neck, he recognized the sensation. It was all too familiar. Of course, the pain relief was quick to follow, all his cuts and bruises feeling much less burdensome. He felt a bit lightheaded, and he could feel the tension leaving his body. He knew he shouldn’t feel relaxed, he knew he was still in a terrible situation, but the drug numbed him, and he remembered clearly why he had become addicted in the first place (not that he had ever forgotten).

It made everything _easier_.

So, the second time Ben brought out the vial, Spencer found himself fighting it a lot less.

The third time, Spencer just closed his eyes, relief washing over him when he felt the prick of the needle.

In between doses, Ben gave it plenty of time to fully get through Spencer’s system, taking that time to force him to eat and drink a little bit, making him say what little he could articulate, using his body as he pleased. He even napped, curled up beside Spencer when he was too strung out to consider using that as an advantage to try and get away.

And each time it faded, Spencer started fighting more as he came back to his senses, and Ben pouted.

“No wonder that dear old Toby kept you drugged up,” Ben said. “You are _so_ sweet and pliant like that. I bet if anyone else saw you like this, they wouldn’t be able to help themselves either. Of course, this part wouldn’t be as much fun all doped up, would it?”

Spencer would have told Ben to shut up, but he was busy gritting his teeth hard against the pain of Ben slowly, _slowly_ , **_so fucking slowly_** stabbing him with his switchblade. It was a strange sensation, the way the blade burrowed itself into an indent in his skin, and just kept burrowing until the skin finally gave way with a silent sort of popping sensation, pressure relieved in favour of piercing skin. Spencer had cried out, but was quickly silenced by Ben clamping a hand over his mouth. It was not at all helped by the fact that his hand was still covered in drying blood and semen when it landed on his mouth. Disgusting.

“You _know_ how much I love your voice, but you have to speak softly,” Ben said. “I don’t want to tell you again, love.”

“Kind of hard to keep it down when you’re busy stabbing me, you fucking son of a bi-” _SLAP_


	59. Chapter 59

Spencer stared at the sliver of morning light coming through the cracks in his curtains.

Was it four days? It felt like it… but time was hard to tell with drugs and an irregular schedule. Spencer was tired of waking up so groggy and disoriented, but he revelled in the few minutes he’d get to spend alone in these inbetween times, when Ben was gone doing who knows what. It never lasted long. Ben wanted to ‘make the most of their week.’ Spencer wanted to stop waking up.

_i much do i weigh?_  
The thought floated through his mind on its own accord, and Spencer would have laughed maniacally at the ridiculousness of it had he not felt so punched out. Of course. Even in a situation like this, of course he had to be worried about _that_. It was almost a cruel comfort, a senseless normalcy in this waking nightmare he was in.

_yeah, definitely want to stop waking up._

“Good morning my love, how’d you sleep?” Ben asked, flouncing into the room like a fucking cockatiel, all pomp and energy.

There was a time that Spencer would’ve adored that.

“Like I was drugged.” It didn’t come out biting, cold, like Spencer wanted. It came out tired, weak, pathetic. Spencer glared to make up for the lack. Glared, but didn’t look away as Ben crossed the room. _Have to look, have to watch. Makes it worse if you don’t look._

“You ought to say thank you to me, for helping you sleep so peacefully,” Ben said conversationally, sliding a hand up Spencer’s leg as he approached.

Spencer knew it was a demand. Anytime Ben suggested he say or do something, it was a demand, and if not obeyed it was quickly followed up by sharp, quick, shallow cuts. Shallow so Spencer wouldn't lose too much blood and pass out. So Ben could keep going and going...Spencer knew because those cuts decorated his chest and stomach and thighs.

Four days, he was pretty sure. Maybe five.

What would happen on the last day, day nine?

“Spence, say thank you,” Ben repeated, allowing the blade he never let go of to drift down to Spencer’s chest.

_no_  
Spencer wouldn’t verbalize it, but the defiance in his eyes spoke for him anyway. There was no way in hell he was going to _thank_ Ben. Of course, that earned him another three decisive cuts, but through the pain he kept his mouth firmly clamped shut.

_i wont i wont i wont fuck you i wont_  
Four more days. Four more, after this one ended. He could do it, he could do it. He didn’t know what would happen then, most likely he’d just be killed, but damn it all if he was going to give up. Spencer prayed, not for the first time, that an emergency case would pop up, and the team would try to contact him. He prayed that when he didn’t answer the call, they’d come looking for him, of course checking his own home first. He could almost see it, Derek kicking in the door, Hotch and JJ close behind, guns drawn…

But that wasn’t reality. Reality was Ben’s lips forcing themselves onto Spencer’s. Reality was blood staining his bedsheets. Reality was Spencer’s arm and leg muscles cramping and giving out in a never ending cycle from the position he was forced to maintain. Reality was Spencer starting to cry against his will as he felt fingers trail their way down his stomach with intent. Again.

“Oh, now _that_ is cute.” A thumb followed the path of his tear, and somehow that hurt worse that the cuts decorating his torso. “You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if _everyone_ you know has wanted to do this to you. You bleed so prettily, and you’ve never been so good-looking as when you’re crying for me.” Ben started jacking him off as he spoke, and Spencer tried desperately to distract himself, ignore Ben both in words and actions. “Maybe you’ll be in a more gracious mood after getting off…”

At least if Ben was rough-handed, cold and domineering, Spencer would be able to understand the situation more clearly, and be able to just retreat into his mind as Ben took what he wanted. But he wasn’t. He was gentle (besides the occasional attention grabbing flick of a blade), he was warm and cuddly as always, he wanted Spencer to be attentive, to reciprocate… And Spencer was sickened.

He couldn’t bite back a soft moan, and Ben was “ _rewarding him_ ” with a kiss.

Spencer almost bit off his tongue trying to keep from making any other sounds Ben wanted to hear. He couldn’t give him that satisfaction. He wouldn’t.


	60. Chapter 60

“I’m not hungry.” It wasn’t a lie. Dilaudid was a strong appetite suppressant, and Spencer was almost queasy smelling the chicken.

Ben just snorted. He cut off a piece and held it out on a fork, inches from Spencer’s mouth. “Open up.”

Maybe being fed wasn’t supposed to be part of the torture aspect of this whole mess, but that didn’t stop Spencer from feeling like it was. Still, Spencer ate, not wanting to piss off Ben and possibly causing more harm to himself. He ate about half the plate before he was actively gagging.

Ben just ‘hmph’ed and set aside the plate. “I guess that’s enough for now,” he conceded. “I know it’s hard for you to eat, sweetie, but it’s important to stay nourished so your body doesn’t give out too soon..”

“It’d be less hard if I could use my own hands,” Spencer said, despite knowing it was pointless.

Ben gave a small barking laugh. “No, no that’d be worse.” Ben straightened a few strands of Spencer’s hair gently. “I told you, you’re all mine. I’m in control here. No one else can hurt you, not even-” Ben tapped Spencer’s nose “-yourself.”

“Yeah, because _I’m_ the threat here.”

Ben grabbed Spencer’s jaw tightly, his iron grip certain to leave bruises, and leaned in close, eyes locked, to softly say, “At least I’m honest about the fact that what I’m doing is hurting you. But you, you're in denial. I’m fascinated by how someone as smart as you can be so overcome by something as simple as food. Lucky I’ve been here to feed you, or who knows what would’ve happened.”

Spencer’s eyes widened minutely before he tamped his surprise down.

_well, it shouldn’t be a surprise he knows,_ Spencer thought bitterly. Living together didn’t exactly allow for the extent of privacy he was accustomed to having... He wondered what it was specifically that tipped Ben off. Not that it mattered by then.

What mattered then was…  
Was…  
Was nothing, really. He was tied to a bed and would be dead in a few days, if not less. What was he meant to care about? What was the point?

Ben kissed him, and Spencer… stopped fighting.

He let the tension in his shoulders finally give out, and he sagged back into the pillows and mattress. He stopped twisting and stopped clenching his jaw and stopped turning his head and just stopped trying.

After all, what was the point?


	61. Chapter 61

“Who do you belong to?”

Spencer swallowed dryly. His eyes flitted from Ben’s to the needle in his hand and back again. God, everything hurt. Everything hurt and Ben wouldn’t try to make him talk so damn much when pumped full of drugs.

“Tell me who you belong to, Spence.”

_what’s the point what’s the POINT, no one’s coming, and if that damn drug is the thing that’s going to ease my last few days alive-_

“No.” It took everything Spencer had to say that one word, teeth grinding hard. The fight might have gone out of him, but damn it, he wasn’t going to actively participate in this madness.

Ben _tutted_ like a damn schoolteacher, then set the needle down on the nightstand. So close, yet so far. He traded it for his switchblade, obviously relishing in the simple act of flicking it open.

“I’m getting tired of how stubborn you’re being,” Ben complained. “I mean, it was really cute at first, but now I’m kinda hurt. It’s almost like you _want_ me to hurt you.” Ben positioned himself between Spencer’s legs, and Spencer almost had a heart attack when cold metal pressed against his upper inner thigh, trailing up to his _FUCKfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-_

“Oh hello, that got your attention,” Ben laughed, seeing the spasm of panic across Spencer’s face. “I think I’ll give you another chance, love, only because I happen to _like_ this part of you without being cut up. Just one. Answer the question.”

Spencer was going to lose either way. Spencer _had_ lost either way. Literal castration seemed like the worse option, so Spencer opened his mouth, betraying himself.

“I belong to you.”

Spencer expected it when Ben pulled away the knife and replaced it with his lips. Ben always ‘rewarded’ Spencer when he caved and said what Ben wanted him to. What he didn’t expect was for Ben to dig the blade into his thigh. Spencer jerked away hard, a strangled cry leaving his throat.

“Shush, love, don’t squirm or you’ll mess it up.”

Spencer flinched hard again anyways when Ben started carving into his leg. It wasn’t like the other cuts Ben had decorated his skin with. These were deeper, harder, twisting and bloody. “You’ll hit an artery, I’ll- I’ll bleed out- You-” Spencer panted, vision blurring from pained tears as he tried hard to form words.

“Oh please, I’ve had practice,” Ben replied. “I’m not going to hit your artery. Trust me, you won’t die until I want you to.”

_how reassuring_ Spencer would’ve said if he wasn’t clenching his jaw hard enough to make his teeth ache.

When Ben was finished, he picked back up the needle and passed it over Spencer’s field of vision. “Say please.”

Spencer didn’t reply at first. He instead stared at his leg, the bloody mess that throbbed with pain. The cuts, digging deep into his skin, formed Ben’s initials.

Like a fucking piece of property, monogrammed so everyone knew who _owned_ it.

Spencer turned his head, stretching his body as far as he could to throw up over the side of the bed. Trembling like a leaf, so hard that his teeth chattered, Spencer looked back at Ben and said, quietly, almost a whisper, “Please.”


	62. Chapter 62

_maybe i should’ve started giving him what he wants way earlier_  
It could barely be considered a coherent thought, but it was there, in Spencer’s addled mind. Ben had put away the switchblade, and hadn’t cut him since he had gritted out the ‘please’ that Ben had wanted to hear. All Spencer had to do was repeat what Ben wanted him to say. Maybe if it weren’t for the euphoric and relaxing effects of the drugs in his system, he would have continued fighting, but Spencer was tired. God, was he so tired. And Ben was playing with his hair and had cleaned up some of the blood and mess and covered him up with a blanket and everything felt just a little less bad.

“I love you, sweetie.”  
“I love you too.”  
“Who do you belong to?”  
“You.”  
“Ask me to kiss you.”  
“... Kiss me?”

No inflection, no feeling. Empty words. A means to an end. His injuries started aching again. His thigh throbbed and his older cuts itched. He needed another dose. His head was starting to clear. If he let it, he’d start thinking again and he’d start fighting again. He didn’t have the willpower for it. He’d be dead soon anyways. He asked Ben for another dosage. Ben obliged, but not before telling him he’d have to work for it. Spencer let Ben do what he wanted (not that he had much choice in the matter), and after Ben brought himself (and Spencer) over the edge, he dosed up Spencer again. He left the room, and Spencer floated in his empty head.

Spencer thought too much. Here, like this, it was easy to decide. He thought too much and his brain needed to shut up. Dilaudid fixed that. Dilaudid fixed that, and his aches and pains, and made Ben easier to tolerate…

And when the effects started fading again, later when Ben was curled up against him sleeping, Spencer fell apart, letting silent sobs fall from his lips, trying desperately not to wake Ben. 

This wasn’t how this had been meant to go. Not this week, not this relationship, not his whole fucking life… Everything was so utterly wrong, and Spencer couldn’t fix it, not this time. He’d died once before, he reasoned with himself miserably, so at least he had some experience in that field. Spencer wondered numbly how Ben would do it. He was the melodramatic type, so maybe he’d sink his switchblade slowly into Spencer’s chest all the way, symbolically piercing his heart. Maybe Ben would snap and just start cutting deeper, slicing harder until Spencer bled out. Maybe he’d lay him to sleep with an overdose. Maybe he’d want to do something more intimate, like strangle him. The things Spencer had seen throughout his career gave him no shortage of possibilities to think up.

In every version, though, was Ben’s bright, bubbly, ‘ _loving_ ’ smile.

Fuck, he wanted another hit.


	63. Chapter 63

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> super tiny chapter before this weekend's update !!!  
> for the ~drama~ !!!

The sun was out, late morning.  
Ben was sleepily tracing Spencer’s collarbones.  
Spencer was off in his own head, thoughts clouded from a freshly administered dosing.

The doorbell rang.

“What the-” Ben visibly jumped, shooting up from where he lay.

Spencer thought that might be important, the doorbell ringing, but he wasn't of mind to think into any deeper than note it as an anomaly.

“Spence, stay quiet, okay?” Ben said softly, already grabbing his switchblade off the nightstand. Spencer’s heart rate kicked up, eyes flitting from Ben to the blade. “If you start yelling, I’ll kill whoever’s at the door, you know I will.”

Of course Spencer believed Ben, but he also wasn’t sure if he should listen. _No, no i should listen. If i listen he doesn’t hurt me, just stay quiet_. That made sense to him. They were both silent for a long moment, then the sound of the door opening, and a voice calling out startled them both.

“Who has keys to your apartment?” Ben hissed in a whisper.

He sounded worried. Spencer vaguely acknowledged that as a win, but he couldn’t answer Ben’s question. He couldn’t remember. Ben cursed under his breath, told Spencer to stay quiet once more, then left the room.

So, Spencer let himself float on the high, watching the ceiling fan blades spin faster than he could possibly keep up with, as Ben left the room to see who had come in. Spencer let his mind wander in emptiness as he heard someone- someone not Ben?- talking. The noises got louder, crashes and bangs, and Spencer frowned. He should be concerned, shouldn’t he? He… should do something, right? Spencer, with no small effort, picked up his head and looked out the- oh, the door was closed. He didn’t bother trying with his arms or legs. He had fought the restraints enough by that point to acknowledge the fruitlessness of such an attempt. He flopped his head back down, wincing as the quick motion agitated a cut on his neck. He closed his eyes, considering whether or not he’d get in trouble for falling asleep. It’d be Ben’s own fault, if he did, having used fatigue inducing drugs. It was surprisingly easy to tune out the noises from the other room, and slip into his safe haven of unconsciousness…


	64. Chapter 64

Spencer woke with a hand at his throat.

“I’m sorry, I just-” Spencer flicked his eyes open as quickly as possible to meet Ben’s, but found someone else’s instead, wide with shock and concern.

_what?_

The hand left his throat and went to his hands, the cuffs. “Spencer, it’s just me, okay? You’re okay. The param-”

“Ben- Ben’s- he’ll kill you, I-”

“No, no he won’t, okay, Ben’s gone, it’s just you and me now.”

_it’s just you and me  
it’s just you and me_

_oh god nonononono_  
“No, no please, don’t,” Spencer felt his arm slacken and immediately shot out his hand, trying to shove Emily away from him. The motion hurt, partially from weakened muscles but also because he managed to rip open a couple of scabbing cuts, but it didn’t deter Spencer. She was in on it, Ben was _her_ friend, _she_ introduced them… “Stop, please, I can’t-”

“Hey, I’m just getting these cuffs off of you, okay?” Emily said in a soft voice, hands up in a placating manner. “Please, you’re hurting yourself.”

With immense effort, Spencer tried to calm down, tried to slow his breathing, but his eyes never left Emily. He knew Emily. Emily was trying to help. He knew that. But his brain screamed danger as Emily walked around to his other side. He couldn’t help flinching when Emily’s hands brushed his own as she unlocked the second cuff.  
_she’s not gonna hurt me_  
Emily had a large cut along her forehead. She was bleeding.  
_she’s not gonna hurt me_  
She was dressed in casual clothes, hair down, little makeup. She wasn’t coming from the BAU.  
_she’s not gonna hurt me she’s not gonna-_

Ben’s words danced in Spencer’s head. _if anyone else saw you like this, they’d do the same, they’d hurt you just like me, you bleed so pretty-_  
Spencer yanked his arm away from Emily’s touch as soon as he felt the first bit of slack. His arms and neck and shoulders _burned_ , they ached so badly, and his hands felt numb. Emily set to work on his ankles as well, Spencer vaguely acknowledging that he ought to be at least somewhat self-conscious of his current state of undress, with only a thin bedsheet covering his torso. He wasn’t self-conscious, though. He was just scared. As his last limb was freed, he heard a loud banging on the door and practically jumped out of his skin.

“It’s just the paramedics. I’m gonna yell for them to come in, okay?” Emily explained in calming tones. Spencer nodded, and she shouted for the paramedics.

Within seconds the small room had too many people in it, a stretcher being brought in as well, and Spencer was immediately overwhelmed. Too many hands, too many faces, too many voices… Spencer could feel his chest tightening, his breaths coming harsher. Everything was too much, and he felt a panic attack rising.

Two people were shifting him, moving him, and he tried to stop them.

“Let me...” 

Someone was asking questions he couldn’t fully hear.

“I can’t…”

Someone pulled at the skin of his inner elbow, examining the track marks.

“Stop-”

Someone someone someone someone…

Spencer fainted.


	65. Chapter 65

He pretended to still be asleep. He had slowly been pulled back into consciousness from a drug induced haze, and he wanted nothing more than to sink back into that nothingness. He wasn’t ready to wake up and face Ben again. Just a little while longer… Just a little more rest before- before- wait...

He could feel an IV in one of his arms, arms that were notably no longer strung out and cuffed, and bandages across his chest and stomach, tucked carefully under a blanket. The bright fluorescent lights stabbed behind his eyelids, and a steady beeping came from too-close machinery.

He wasn’t in his room.

Even so, the sensation of waking up with sedative drugs steadily leaving his system was far too familiar, and he was honestly scared to open his eyes. Scared to face reality.

When he did finally work up the nerve to open his eyes, he was greeted with the commonplace stark white and stainless steel of a hospital room. He took in his surroundings slowly, nervously.

“Spencer?”

It could have been comical, if it weren’t so sad, how fast Spencer’s head whipped around at the sound of his name. Derek was sitting in a chair pulled up to the side of his hospital bed.

“Hey buddy,” Derek said, a weak, barely-there smile flitting across his face, as though the attempt at reassurance for both himself and Spencer was already known to be a lost cause before being conceived.

Spencer didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth, fully intending to reply, but nothing crossed his lips. He just sat there, staring at Derek, unable to convey what he was feeling.

He didn’t even know, fully, what he was feeling.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer didn’t react, and Derek continued. “We were on a case, we didn’t ask you to come because it wasn’t anything big, but while we were there something came up. We figured we could get your opinion on it without you having to come out, but when you didn’t pick up… We just thought you turned your phone off… I had no idea…” Derek trailed off.

They had a case. They had tried to contact him. They hadn’t gotten through and didn’t care...

“Emily got worried because… _he_ wasn’t answering his phone either, so she went to see if you guys were back in town yet.”

The rest didn’t need to be said. Spencer quickly found himself wanting to look anywhere but at Derek, and it took him a moment to remember that he actually _could_ look anywhere else. He wasn’t going to be hurt for not looking Be- Derek in the eye. Still, when he looked down at the stark hospital bed sheets, he felt a twist in his stomach, waiting for a blow to land.

“Spencer? Can you talk to me, please?”

_no_.

“Were you there the whole time?”

_don’t ask questions you already know the answer to._

“Hey, I just want to-”

“Stop! Just stop!” Spencer burst out, then quickly moved his hand to cover his mouth. The motion jerked the IV in his arm and there was a sharp pain as it twisted and yanked out of place, making Spencer flinch and hiss.

Derek was up in an instant. “Hey, hey, stop you’re-”

“Don’t touch me, don’t-”

Derek had apparently hit the nurse call button, as it buzzed and lit up, but Spencer was more focused on curling away from Derek, wide eyes carefully watching as Derek took a step back.

“I’m not, okay Reid? I’m not, but that needle needs to come out of your arm, right?” Derek said, and Spencer gave pause to that. He hesitantly pulled off the needle, biting his lip at the sensation. “Great, okay, now they’ll be able to fix it.” Derek encouraged him, reaching up to turn off the drip himself.

“Oh, he’s awake again,” A nurse, ID badge identifying her as Pamela Waters, said as she bustled into the room. She noticed the IV issue right away and simply tutted. “That’s no good, you’ll want those painkillers, honey.”

_again?_

“He can’t have any-”

“Yes, agent Morgan, I’m sure you’ve told every employee at this facility by now. No narcotics.” She said as she went through a couple drawers, putting on gloves and drawing out a fresh needle. She smiled at Spencer kindly. “Now then, let’s get you fixed up, sweetie.”

If anyone asked Spencer what happened, he wouldn’t be able to say. He didn’t remember thinking anything, didn’t remember moving, but suddenly he was at the door, flinging it open, and- He was grabbed by the arms, his elbows pinned tightly to his sides. He acknowledged he was yelling, but he wouldn’t recall what was said. Derek was trying to calm him down, but Spencer couldn’t really focus, his abrupt movement having heavily irritated his injuries and Derek’s grip still secure on his arms, holding him in place.

Spencer realized he needed to be agreeable.  
 _do what they say, everything will stop hurting, just behave and they’ll stop_  
The life drained out of him, and he slumped down, knees practically giving out. Derek held his weight easily.

Derek spoke to the doctor quietly as he eased Spencer back onto the bed.

“Is there any way we can skip the IV for now? He’s still really disoriented…”  
“Well, I can get the doctor, but I’m just not sure, his vitals aren’t quite where they should be, and he’s had a fair share of blood loss.”  
“I’d appreciate it if you spoke to the doctor.”  
“... Alright. I’ll _see_ if I can get him some oral dosage painkillers, if he can handle it.”  
“Thank you.”  
“If he’s going to be a risk, I’ll have to assign a nurse to be with him during his stay here.”  
“He’s not, like I said, he’s just disoriented. Please, just, avoid the needles and he’ll be fine, okay?”

The nurse’s buzzer on her hip went off, distracting her. “I’ll speak to his doctor, we’ll see what we need to do with him.” She said, and left just as quick as she came.

Spencer listened, but didn’t really process any of it. It’s not like it mattered. He was going to have to do whatever the doctors and nurses said in the end anyways.


	66. Chapter 66

Spencer did end up needing to stay on the IV, but he handled it much better on the second attempt, apologizing to the nurse for his reaction the first time. He was also clear headed enough to explain to the nurse that the injuries were caused by a switchblade, and he’d appreciate them keeping an eye out for infections since he was fairly sure the blade wasn’t properly sanitized before use.

He also asked, through gritted teeth, if they had used a rape kit. He felt… wrong, saying it out loud, and he was made further uncomfortable by Derek being able to hear it. Thinking about Derek seeing him as weak or broken made him want to vomit, so he purposefully pushed that thought away as hard as he could.

“I’m sure there’s already ample evidence against… him… but juries like to have as much evidence as possible.” He said quietly.

“Oh, um, I-” the nurse looked nervously over to Derek.

“There’s not gonna be a trial for the bastard,” Derek said, voice betraying a large array or emotions that Spencer wasn’t keen on picking out.

Spencer’s stomach dropped. “W- why?”

“‘Cause he’s dead.”

_oh. oh no…_  
“How.” Spencer’s voice gave out halfway through the word. “How, Derek.”

“Emily said he off-ed himself.” Derek said matter-of-factly. “She was trying to-”

Spencer stopped listening.  
 _he won. he won. he won.  
he took everything and then got out of it by going and fucking dying.  
he took everything and had fun doing it, knowing he wouldn’t have to pay for it.  
he took everything and i’m not even dead._


	67. Chapter 67

Apparently most of the team were in the waiting room, sleeping in chairs or pacing. Derek had been unwilling to give up his station in the room to let the others visit, but once Spencer had assured him that he was fine, much better than before, he relented.

Only Emily and Derek knew the details, and even Derek only knew what he had heard the nurse and Spencer discuss. Everyone else only knew the surface level details, that he had been held captive by Ben and tortured.

It was hard.

JJ visited with Rossi. They both apologized like Derek had, and Spencer numbly told them that it wasn’t their fault. He wanted so badly to blame someone else, have someone who was still breathing to pin his misery on besides himself, but it simply wasn’t their fault. 

As they were getting ready to leave to let others visit, JJ said, “Let me know if there’s anything at all I can do, okay Spence?”

The blood drained from Spencer’s face.

“Don’t call me that,” He said quietly. “I’m sorry, don’t- just Spencer okay? I don’t think I can-”

His feelings must have been clearly etched across his face, because the two were quickly apologizing, reassuring him they wouldn’t do it again.

Hotch visited, and they fought about Spencer coming back to work.

“Reid, this is not a discussion. You aren’t going to step foot in that building until I personally approve it.” Hotch said firmly. “I know how hard it is to have to-”

“Oh, you know how hard it is, huh? You know?” Spencer knew he shouldn’t, knew how wrong it was, but he opened his mouth anyway. “Because from what I can remember, you were only held for what, one night? Stabbed a few times? Oh, that must have been hard.” He bit the words out sarcastically.

“Reid-”

“Try eight days and eight nights. At least you knew the guy turning you into a Finlay scratchboard was a rat bastard who hated you, but I had to find out the hard way aftER DATING HIM!!”

Hotch and Spencer stared each other down, both at their tipping point. Spencer half expected Hotch to take the two steps forward and punch him across the face. He knew he went too far. He didn’t know if he cared or not.

“I didn’t know it was a competition to see who had more trauma,” Hotch finally broke the silence, tone dry and empty, devoid of anything at all.

Spencer figured he did care, then, judging by the pit in his stomach. “I’m sorry,” His voice sounded weird in his own ears, like he was underwater. He looked away, again something tightening in his chest when taking his eyes off the other person.

“I shouldn’t have tried to imply that I could understand what you are going through,” Well, it wasn’t quite an apology, but Spencer knew it was how Hotch intended it. “I’m not firing you, I’m not asking you to step down. I’m just saying that you need time to recover.”

Hotch ended that conversation there, and Spencer relented for the moment. He had spoken too much, and he felt nervous.

When Penelope visited, she was a mess. She had initially gone in for a hug before obviously halting her own reach.  
_someone must have told her how i reacted before_ Spencer thought, bothered at the thought of the rest of the team discussing him outside of his presence. What else had they talked about?

“Hey,” she said gently. “I guess asking how you are is probably kind of silly, isn’t it?”

He worked up a smile at her attempt at humor. It was obvious how it helped her relax. Her shoulders came down from near her ears, and her hands that had been clasped tightly to her bag loosened and dropped to her sides. She sat down in the chair beside his hospital bed, exhaling deeply and blinking rapidly to urge away her tears.

“I’m sorry,” She choked out.

Spencer didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. The two who always had something to say sat in silence for a long minute. Spencer was relieved for the moment of peace. Spencer watched carefully as Penelope wrapped a hand around his bed railing, holding onto it as if it were an extension of Spencer himself, as though it were grounding her. He wanted to reach out and take her hand. He knew that’s what she wanted, maybe even needed, but… he couldn’t.

Emily visited. Spencer wasn’t even sure if he’d let her, at first. She had seen him at the absolute worst, but she was the one who saved him. But she was also the one who introduced them… But she didn’t know, it wasn’t her fault…

He relented when Derek said she was the most broken up out of anybody, though Derek could’ve been lying, judging by how put together she looked entering the room.

Her expression crumpled when she saw him, though, and Spencer was immediately self-conscious of how she had seen him before. He sat up a bit straighter, ignoring the discomfort of moving his injuries, trying to portray a more composed countenance. She seemed to recollect herself in the same moment as Spencer, both parties faking it and knowing it.

“Ben’s dead,” Emily said it deadpan, monotone, factual. She wasn’t even looking straight at Spencer, but slightly off to the side. She had stitches running on her forehead, where Spencer could only assume Ben had cut her during their fight.

“Tell me what happened,” Spencer asked quietly.

Emily looked around the room for a moment, then cleared her throat, shaking the hair out of her face. Her expression closed and she rattled off the chain of events as factually as she could.

She wasn’t telling the whole story, but she said enough. She had seen signs of Ben lying and knew there was something going on. There were traces of blood and evidence of... unusual circumstances. when she confronted him they fought and he took his own life to get out of standing trial. 

And when she was done, Spencer didn’t have anything to say. She apologized, just like the others, but hers was the one with weight to it. Spencer didn’t reply. He didn’t know how he felt. He didn’t know whether he felt like the apology was unnecessary or if it was completely necessary, and if it was he didn’t know if he’d accept it or not.

Emily sat, then, like Penelope, and let the background noise of the hospital take the stage as they both simply existed beside one another. She didn’t grab his bed’s arm rail. He was relieved.


	68. Chapter 68

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN :
> 
> hey guys, this chapter is kind of a special one bc it's actually from EMILY'S POV !!!!  
> i figured it was only fair for you guys to be able to see how this played out, and so here it is! ben dying UvU skdjfhdjksh

The team had attempted to contact Spencer multiple times, but he never picked up, so eventually Emily tried contacting Ben too. When neither man answered, she grew concerned and decided to check and see if they might be back a day early. When she arrived, she saw Ben’s car parked in the apartment’s parking so she knew they had to be there. She rang the bell, but no one answered, and, growing more and more unsettled, used her key to unlock his door.

“Spencer? Ben?” Emily called out as she entered. The house was dark, but she heard shuffling from somewhere inside. She rested her hand on her gun and closed the door with her foot quietly.

And then Ben was coming out of Spencer’s bedroom, smiling. Her hand relaxed.

“Oh my god, Ben!” She said, relieved. “Hey, when did you and Spence get back?”

“Hi Em! Wayyy early this morning, the drive was _killer_. Spence is still asleep,” He jerked his head toward the room he had just left, speaking quietly as to not disturb Spencer. “What are you doin’ here??” He asked as he pulled her in for a hug.

“Neither of you were answering your phones, what happened?” She demanded.

“Oh, y’know, the gps totally burned up our batteries,” Ben explained, pulling away and stretching his arms above his head, yawning. “They’re being charged right now.”

When Ben stretched, Emily caught a glimpse of a red stain, one that looked far too familiar due to her line of work, on the band of his sweats, up onto his bare skin. As though the shirt was put on purposefully to cover it… It was only a small look, and instant really, but Emily was immediately on edge. Spencer wouldn’t have needed a gps, she knew. Spencer could take one look at the route on the map and guide them the entire way, he did it frequently during cases.

“So, uh, Spence is asleep? You know when he might be up?” Emily asked.

“No, probably not for another few hours, maybe you should just come back,” Ben suggested, picking up a blanket off the floor and shaking it out. “He was exhausted by the time we got in, he had been driving for the last part.”

Spencer didn’t drive in the dark. Spencer barely drove at all, but he specifically didn’t ever like to drive in the dark. If they got back in the early morning, that meant the drive would’ve happened before the sun was up. Ben was lying.

Her chest tightened.  
_why would Ben lie? Why does he have blood on him? Why wouldn’t Spencer have answered two days ago, disregarding today?_  
Emily had to regain control of herself quickly, pushing down her nerves. She watched as Ben puttered about the living room for a moment, absently rearranging things. Emily eyed him carefully before looking around the house with a more analytical gaze. There were no bags, suitcases, cooler, anything indicating that they had just returned from a trip.

She knew she couldn’t be emotional right now. That could come later. She had to stay calm, she had to play this carefully…

“Well, do you want to go do something, while he’s in bed?” Emily asked. “We could have breakfast, there’s a patisserie down the street. We can bring Spencer back something for when he’s up.”

“Actually, I’m still reaallyy pooped too,” Ben pouted. “You kinda woke me up with the bell, y’know,” he teased with a nudge of his elbow. He was attempting to nonchalantly steer her towards the door.

Emily finally had to ask. Had to _know_. “Ben… what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” He asked it calmly, casually, open and honest, but Emily saw it. The way his eyes darted slightly. The slight shift in posture. His hand twitching.

The doubt left entirely. Emily realized that if she left, Ben would kill Spencer, if he hadn’t already. If Ben was in some sort of break, his paranoia would take over and he would cover his tracks.

She drew her gun, but Ben caught the movement and grabbed her arm, twisting it awry and in the next moment a switchblade was in his other hand. Reflectively, Emily had to drop the gun and twist around to avoid being stabbed. He still managed to catch her head, though, and Emily immediately felt the blood trickling down her forehead. Ben lunged for the gun but Emily kicked it behind them and slammed Ben over the back of the couch, both of them tumbling over and onto the floor.

“Really? Fucking _really,_??? What the _hell_ , Em!!” Ben exclaimed in an exasperated tone.

“Where’s Spencer?” Emily demanded, even as she had to scramble away on her back to avoid Ben’s attempt to slash at her.

“Literally, the _entire_ time you’ve known me, and only _now_ when I _finally_ am _exactly_ where I’m meant to be, do you decide I’m a _threat_.” Ben half whined, half spat.

Emily was speechless, and didn’t much care to continue listening. She didn’t know what he was talking about, only that she was officially 100 percent sure he had completely lost it. It took her only an instant to locate something to use as a weapon; a poker by the fireplace. She kicked out at Ben to hold him off, earning a harsh ribbon of pain down her calf for it, and snatched up the poker. She flipped around and used it like a bat, catching Ben’s arm with as much force as possible as he went in to try and strike again. The blade flew out of his hand and he yelled out. She took the opportunity to flip the weapon around in her hand and use the blunt end to hit him across the face, sending him into the coffee table, shattering the glass top. Emily darted across the room for her gun, practically throwing herself into a tumble roll to flip back around to face Ben, gun levelled at his head.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Ben,” Emily said, hands steady but heart hammering.

Emily had always known Ben to be a laid-back, jovial kind of guy. It was incredibly unnerving to see these same traits displayed even as he struggled back to his feet, a sheepish yet playful smile twitching at his lips.

“Holy shit Em, you weren’t kidding when yo-”

“Shut up,” She interrupted. She started to come closer, looking about the room with quick darting glances to try and find something to use as makeshift handcuffs. She might keep her gun on her, but it wasn’t like she just walked around on her days off waiting to arrest someone. “Put your hands above your head or so help me, I will blow your head off here and now.”

He obliged, and Emily kept her eyes and gun trained on him as she used one hand to take the belt off her own waist. She got it off and then grabbed his wrists, pulling his arms down and using the belt to restrain him. It was a two-hand job, unfortunately, so she had to reholster her gun for the moment. She only got halfway through before Ben suddenly hooked his foot around her ankle and swept her foot out from under her. It didn’t make her fall but it did cause her to lose her balance enough that when Ben rammed his shoulder into her hard, she stumbled backwards, letting go of the belt.

She regained her balance quickly, already muttering curses and redrawing her gun, when she froze. Her jaw dropped.

Ben had crouched down, grabbed a large piece of broken glass, and was holding it to his own throat.

“Ben, don’t-!” But it was too late. She surged toward him, grabbing at his throat, trying to stop the bleeding, knowing it was fruitless.

“I win,” Ben gurgled, barely intelligible, a giddy expression flashing across his face. “Tell… I..” Ben was unconscious before he could finish the thought.

_fuckfuckfuck_  
Emily stopped bothering with the feeble attempts to keep him alive and instead reached into he pocket to grab her phone. It wasn’t there.  
_ohmygodwhatthefuckwhatthefuck_  
She searched the floor for it, moving things about with trembling, bloodsoaked hands. When she did find it, she dropped it, hands too slick to get a firm grip.  
_whatthefuckwhatthefuck_  
She dried her hands as best she could on her shirt, and shakily dialed.  
She did her best to remain calm, identifying herself and her location. As she spoke, she hesitantly creaked open the bedroom door, silently begging to find… _Spencer!_

_oh god…_

His wrists and ankles were cuffed to each corner of the bed, leaving him defenseless. His entire torso seemed to be coated in a layer of his own blood, the sheet curled around his lower body and the bedcover underneath him both stained red as well. He was literally laid in a pool of his own blood, and Emily could _smell_ the metallic tinge from the door. Her hand flew to her mouth, agape in shock. She had seen things like this before, hell she had seen much worse, but this was _Spencer_... and… _Ben_ had done this???

The operator on the phone was trying to regain her attention. Emily tried desperately to stifle her panic and choke out the necessary information. He was unconscious, but breathing, lost a lot of blood, though none of the wounds seemed to be actively bleeding, thankfully. She set the phone down on the nightstand, operator asking her to stay on the line in case anything changes, before leaning in closer to Spencer. Here, closer, she could see yellowing bruises across his jaw and cheekbones, dark circles framing his eyes… She didn’t miss the track marks in his arm, heart breaking at the thought of Spencer fighting Ben to try and prevent him from drugging him.

She placed a hand to his neck to feel for his pulse, to see how weak it was, but as soon as her hand made contact, his eyes shot open, as though he hadn’t even been asleep, and his eyes locked on hers, though his gaze was empty.

“I’m sorry, I just-”

“Spencer, it’s just me, okay?” Emily reassured him, trying her best to speak softly, to help ground him. She quickly moved to uncuff him, knowing he must be in pain. “You’re okay. The param-”

“Ben- Ben’s- he’ll kill you, I-”

Emily shushed him gently. “No, no he won’t, okay, Ben’s gone, it’s just you and me now.”

But somehow that only made his eyes widen further, and a spasm of horror crossed his face. “No, no please, don’t,” She had managed to unbuckle one of his hands, and the second it was free he was shoving her away. It was a weak shove, and Emily couldn’t stop the tear that rolled down her cheek despite _needing_ to be strong right now. “Stop, please, I can’t-”

“Hey, I’m just getting these cuffs off of you, okay?” Emily’s voice cracked and she wiped her face as she put her hands up in a placating manner. “Please, you’re hurting yourself.” She begged.

He seemed to compose himself as much as he possibly could, and she moved on to the other. Still, his limbs jerked away from her as she passed over each to free him.

He had never looked quite so small.

He almost jumped out of his skin when there was a bang at the door. It had to be the EMTs, and she told Spencer as much, his eyes wide and locked on her face. His eyes hadn’t left her once since they snapped open. She wasn’t sure if it was shock, grounding, or what, but he followed her movements precisely, unnervingly.

When the paramedics came in, though, his eyes roved face to face, as though trying to determine where he was meant to look. He struggled, weak yet fierce, with the first responders for a moment until his body seemed to finally give out, and he slumped, unconscious.

“Oh my god, is he...”

“It’s okay ma’am, he just fainted,” one responder replied after a moment. “It happens fairly frequently to trauma victims.”

_trauma victim_  
Spencer would hate to hear himself be referred to as such, yet there was no term more accurate. And of course, she knew that people could faint in situations like these. Her own shock clouded her judgement. Emily got out of the way as they transported Spencer to the ambulance, and made her way back into the living room.

Another first responder was tending to Ben.

“Is he dead?” She asked, knowing the answer.

“I’m sorry,” came his reply.

Emily blinked slowly, everything beginning to weigh on her more and more heavily. “Don’t be,” she said, and then began walking towards the door, as if in a daze, phone back in hand and dialing the one person she knew without a doubt would pick up, needing them to know before she even spoke to the police.

“Hotch? Listen…”


	69. Chapter 69

Spencer had to answer some questions for an officer, Rossi in the room as a buffer, just for the report, wherein he told her about Ben’s statement that he had other victims. He tried to imply that he should assist in investigating his past victims, but Rossi shut him down.

Afterwards he had to answer more questions, without Rossi present, this time to a psychologist specializing in trauma victims. Thinking about it, about being considered a victim, made Spencer’s skin crawl.

Spencer has bachelors in psychology and sociology. He is a profiler, and he is talented at linguistics and discourse analysis. He has given lectures based on these questions, and even suggested some of the edits and additions made over time.

He also wasn’t stupid enough to get himself caught lying by perfectly answering all the trauma assessment questions. Show trauma, show the effects, but not enough to get him _committed_.

He wasn’t lying just because. He wasn’t unaware of the risks. He just knew he couldn’t be suggested an in-patient trauma treatment. He had two very sound reasons.

The first was that he needed control over his treatment. It made sense, psychologically, didn’t it? His trauma focused on a severe loss of control, so he needed to regain that control. Being inpatient would only take that away, force him to be controlled by a strict schedule and guidelines. No, outpatient treatment would fare far better. He wasn’t like his mother, he wasn’t crazy. He could take care of himself. He didn’t need 24 hour surveillance like a baby.

The second was that if _anyone_ on the team heard even a whisper of the need for inpatient treatment... Hotch might actually let him go permanently. And if he lost the team, he’d lose everything. At least if he was on the team, working with them, they were his friends. But if he had to leave? Who would keep in touch? He was the only one who had tried to keep speaking to Elle, and he was the only one who had worried for Gideon. What, then, when he was forced to leave? Penelope might try, for a while, to stay connected. JJ, because of Henry, might as well. But he doubted it would last.

When he was discharged from the hospital, JJ wasn’t there, she was with her family. Hotch wasn’t there, he was at the office. Emily wasn’t there, she was at the police station. Rossi wasn’t there, he was… well Spencer wasn’t sure about that, but it didn’t matter because he _wasn’t there_. Penelope and Derek. They were. Penelope pushed the wheelchair he didn’t actually need and Derek teased him for it.

He didn’t have as strong of excuses for lying during his drug assessment.

He didn’t disclose his past substance abuse. He was obviously having minor withdrawals, that couldn’t be hidden, but he explained that because it had only been a week, he hadn’t formed a psychological dependency to it. He could handle the tremors and sweating. They weren’t as bad as the withdrawal symptoms he had gone through before…

Now, leaving the hospital, having managed to get out of being held for detox, something in his head buzzed.

Derek illegally parked his car right at the entrance to Spencer’s building.

“Alright, grab a bag,” Derek said, and Spencer just stared at him blankly from the back seat, questions clear across his face. “If you think I’m gonna let you sit in that house all by yourself and sleep in that bed, you’re outta your goddamn mind.”

Spencer took a beat, looking up toward where his apartment was, heartbeat picking up at the thought of the last time he was there.

Derek offered to come up with him, but Spencer quickly rejected him. He'd rather be alone than alone with someone else... He took a breath before he nodded to himself in encouragement and got out of the car. He hadn’t considered how the experience would affect him upon returning to his home, but now, with Derek’s words in his head and his own feet moving towards the door, blood rushing, he found himself scared to turn the handle.

It was eerie. He was here to grab a bag, just like before. In fact, he could just grab the bag he was meant to take to the lake. It was still there, surely, sitting in his room against his dresser. He just had to grab it.

He opened the door, went inside. It was still a mess. Apparently crime scene clean up hadn’t come through yet. His coffee table had been broken. Blood coated a patch of the rug. If Spencer looked at the bloodstain, he could likely make out almost exactly how Ben’s body would have looked.

He went into his room, and froze in the doorway.

His bedsheets were gone, likely taken as evidence, but that only allowed Spencer to see where his blood had seeped through into the mattress.

There wasn’t as much as he thought there’d be. As much as he felt like there had been. As much as he could smell…

His tremors worsened, and he felt a headache blooming. The cuts, still snugly gauze wrapped under his loose hoodie and sweats, brought for him to change into before leaving the hospital courtesy of Penelope, burned as he recalled the feeling of the knife embedding itself into his skin.

He clenched his hands into fists, scoping out the rest of the room. The needle and scattered vials of dilaudid were gone, also as evidence, Spencer assumed. Of course they would have been. He knew that.

He also didn’t care. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he had come up here to get his bag and on the way also decided to grab any vials with anything left in them.

He snatched up his already packed bag and left the room quickly. Derek was right, he couldn’t be here.


	70. Chapter 70

Penelope, Derek, and Spencer arrived at Derek’s house in the early afternoon. Spencer remembered the last time he and Penelope had been at Derek’s together, visiting their sick friend.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

When they entered the house, Spencer kept to the back of the other two, trailing behind as Derek showed him where the bathroom was, and led him to the guest bedroom.

_so what, I’m under house arrest now?_ he thought bitterly, dropping his bag on the bed.

“I’m gonna get PG set up in the office,” Derek said, Penelope having already puttering away down the hall herself.

Spencer gave a half assed nod, and when he was alone he practically collapsed onto the bed. The mattress was firmer than his old one, and the sheets weren’t as well-worn. It didn’t feel anything like his own bed, and that was a comfort, but the moment he let his eyes slide closed from exhaustion, he found himself losing that bit of solace. He opened his eyes again and sat back up quickly. He had only managed to rest before at the hospital because he had been drugged, but now, assistance free, he couldn’t, his heartbeat pounding in his ears just from the moment in which his eyes were closed.

His headache was getting worse.

He tried to distract himself by pulling a book from the bookcase furnishing the room. It was about judo, the history and different techniques, and he got about halfway through before Derek was back at the door, leaning against the frame. Spencer might have jumped, if he hadn’t already been keeping an eye on the door anyways.

Instead he just glanced up and said quietly, “Hope you don’t mind,” while gesturing to the book.

“No, go ahead,” Derek said. His expression was hard to read, which was irritating to Spencer. He dithered at the door quietly for a moment before continuing. “Pen is gonna stay for a few days too,” he gave a small laugh. “She said she’s not gonna let you out of her sight. I talked her down from trying to set you up with a damn surveillance camera.”

Spencer furrowed his brow at that. _so funny, me losing autonomy. great joke._ He set the book down and mumbled something about hanging up his clothes despite not making any move to do so, clasping his sweaty hands together to keep them from shaking, though not much could be done about his headache at the moment. He couldn’t think and wanted to just be left alone. Spencer said as much, and Derek obliged.

There was no way Derek didn’t see the signs of withdrawal. Spencer was fairly certain an astronaut could look down and see his leg bouncing. But Derek didn’t comment, simply obliged to Spencer’s request to be alone.

Everytime his leg bounced, he could feel a deep, dull pain in his thigh where Ben had carved into him.

The fucking hospital shouldn’t have discharged him so early.  
He shouldn't have been so stupid as to get them to.


	71. Chapter 71

Spencer rejected dinner that night, even when Penelope came to his door with a plate. He refused to join the two to watch a movie, even when Derek offered to let him pick. He waited until he could hear Derek’s snores and Penelope’s huffs from their respective sleeping spaces before grabbing his messenger bag and Derek’s keys from where they hung beside the door and leaving the house as quietly as possible.

He wasn’t a great driver, he knew, but he could get from point A to point B. It was worse at night, though, he absolutely hated to drive at night, not even to mention his splitting headache. Still, he got into Derek’s car and took off towards the precinct.

When he arrived, he took a deep breath, ignoring the pain it lit in him, sitting in the car for a long moment.

_am i really doing this? is this what i want? am i actually going to risk it?_

Spencer knew the answers to each of those questions before they were even fully formed thoughts. He was, he didn’t want to, but he was going to.

He walked into the building and flashed his badge to the receptionist. She gave him a critical once over, his outfit not exactly screaming ‘on-the-clock,’ and he explained he had left something here earlier in the day. She simply shrugged and went back to typing on her computer, leaving Spencer to his own devices.

He made his way through the station, trying to keep as low of a profile as possible (which was not hard considering the light staffing) until he located the evidence lockers. He slipped on a pair of gloves from his bag and set to work looking through the lockers for the one that held the evidence from his case. It had only been a couple days, right? There was no way they had transported any of it to long term storage yet…

_yes!_  
Spencer grabbed the evidence bag and opened it up. There, carefully wrapped, were the vials, and even the needle in a secondary, sturdier bag.

Spencer hesitated for only the briefest of moments before stopping any rational thoughts about what he was doing and stuffing the contents into his messenger bag. He pulled out a pen and changed the bag’s label to reflect the changed contents, and replaced it quickly. He left the room and headed back toward the station door.

“Find it then?” The receptionist asked as Spencer passed her again.

“Yeah, yes, thank you,” Spencer stuttered out, and continued out the door quickly, cutting off further conversation. The second he was in the car, he was ready to grab the needle and use it, but he knew that doing that in a police parking lot probably wasn’t the smartest plan.

So instead, he drove back to Derek’s house, creeping back inside as quietly as possible as though he were a rebellious child, and placed the keys carefully back where he found them. He did a secondary check to make sure Penelope and Derek were still both asleep, then went back into the guest bedroom, locking the door behind himself just in case.

Trying to steady his shaking hands, Spencer measured out a dose of the medication. His veins were easy to find, and he felt an immediate sense of relief as he injected the drug. He allowed himself to flop back down across the bed. He didn’t bother with trying to justify his actions to himself as he had before, the first time. Yes it helped him not hurt, yes it helped him sleep, yes it helped him forget, if only for a little bit… But really, it all boiled down to one thing; he was an addict.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N ;
> 
> hello guys! im sorry for the shorter update this week, i would've loved to be able to post more but unfortunately, there's been quite a bit of ~drama~ in my life these past few days. i promise next week's update will be more eventful at the very least. thank you for sticking it out! <3<3<3


	72. Chapter 72

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: aaaaahhhhh its freaking Sunday Whew i just barely got this one up, sorry for the wait!!

_Tobias paced anxiously around Spencer’s room, wringing his hands and muttering to himself. Spencer tried to call out to him, but he couldn’t seem to hear. Instead, he walked to the door, cracking it open just enough to stick his head through and speak to someone on the other side. He stayed like that as Spencer looked down at himself. He was tied to a chair, restrained as he had been before, and a needle was stuck in his arm, as though Tobias had forgotten to pull it out after injecting him with dilaudid. Spencer tried calling out again, but instead of words, hot thick blood fell out of his mouth, coating his bare chest and dripping down to his feet. He gagged at the taste, barely able to breathe against the stream leaving his mouth._

_And then Tobias was opening the door, revealing who he was talking to. Ben entered the room, his bubbly persona replaced by a more serious countenance. Spencer couldn't talk through the blood, but still tried to form Ben's name as he walked up to him. Tobias trailed behind, still fidgety and unfocused._

_"I- You can- use my gun," Tobias mumbled to Ben, but Ben just grinned, not taking his eyes off of Spencer._

_"Aw, but where would be the fun in that?" He questioned with a leer, first removing the needle from Spencer's arm, then hovering over Spencer with one hand bearing down on his upper thigh, the other braced against the back of the chair. Ben leaned in closer, just barely placing his lips on Spencer's, and when he pulled back Spencer's blood was on his lips. It was then that the steady trickle of blood coming up his throat finally stopped, and Spencer had only a moment of relief before Ben's hand was in his mouth, yanking his tongue between pinched fingers, bearing all his weight on Spencer's leg in the process. "Should I cut it out?" Ben asked, eyes gleaming. "Should I, or are you gonna be good and make those sounds I love so much?"_

_Tobias made a sound of disgust in the background, but Ben paid him no mind. "Spence, tell me how attraction works again. The chemical reaction, the neurons firing? Yeah?" The pressure on his thigh and tongue increased as Ben pushed down and pinched harder. "Talk, Spencer. Spencer. Spencer! Reid!_

Reid!"

_nononononono-_  
Spencer jerked awake, immediately loosening his jaw to gasp, freeing his tongue from his own teeth in the process. Derek was there, Spencer's gaze found him immediately, and he held shock still while Derek spoke.

"Hey, hey, you're okay, you're good, it was just a dream."

Spencer still kept quiet, but did shift his eyes off of Derek, instead opting to keep him in his peripheral as he stared at the wall. The taste of blood was stronger in reality than it was in his dream. He rolled his swollen tongue around in his mouth, absently thinking about how it'd take a while for that to heal. That, and his damn thigh practically radiated under its tight layer of gauze. Too tight, it must have gotten twisted in the night, but he wouldn't fix that until Derek left.

The night before he had managed to get uninterrupted sleep, but this time he had woken himself up twice, and now Derek was waking him, all from nightmares. Spencer also hadn't used before sleeping that night, and he didn't like the implications of that.

There was light coming from the window. It was early morning. Derek was probably on his way to fit in a morning jog.

"You hear me?" Derek asked, and Spencer gave a tiny nod despite having tuned out at some point. "Come on, talk to me." Spencer shot Derek an angry glare at that and promptly closed his eyes again. "No, don't give me that, you gotta tell me what I can do."

Spencer had to remind himself that Derek didn't know. He didn't know and no one else did either. They didn't know the kinds of things Ben said, he threatened, he wanted from Spencer. Derek had no way of knowing that every time he asked Spencer to talk, it threw him right back with Ben, telling him how quiet or loud or chatty or short he wanted Spencer to be.

Someone who Spencer had thought finally liked talking with him had turned it into a weapon against him. He knew he shouldn’t let it affect him so much, he didn’t want it to, and yet he found himself completely unwilling to so much as respond to a question.


	73. Chapter 73

121 pounds.  
Spencer felt almost giddy when he found Derek’s scale tucked under the bathroom counter.

When Derek finally left Spencer alone, he beelined for the bathroom to rewrap his injury, but when he was getting the medical kit from under the sink, he saw the scale tucked up behind Penelope’s toiletry bag.

_holy shit…_  
Spencer didn’t even have to think before quickly grabbing it and stripping down to weigh in.  
_121 pounds, 3 less-_  
He had convinced himself that he had gained, so it was nothing short of a relief to see a smaller number on the scale.

Of course, that moment was quickly counteracted by Spencer looking up from the floor to see himself in the mirror.

His torso was healed enough now that he didn’t need to do much but simply keep the healing injuries clean and wear breathable fabrics, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t still look terrible. Looking at himself, Spencer could practically still feel the tip of the blade digging in. there were a few that had the potential to scar, the doctor said, but most would likely clear up in a week. One that wouldn’t heal so easily, however, was the one that Spencer had originally come into the bathroom to rebandage in the first place; his thigh. With unsteady hands, Spencer unwrapped his leg. He had done the same thing yesterday, but then he had simply done it quickly to get it over with. This time, he actually took time to examine the injury, make sure it was healing properly, that the rough night’s sleep hadn’t resulted in anything counterproductive.

Spencer had to focus on taking slow, even breaths as he washed and reapplied ointment to help it heal. He tried not to focus on the way the red, irritated skin and dark scabbing formed purposeful letters that he knew would settle into ruddy scars.

When Spencer began feeling a bit queasy looking at himself, he dressed and stepped out of the bathroom to find the smell of breakfast permeating the household.

-

Derek had to go to work; he had requested leave, but because Spencer was already on mandatory leave and Emily was temporarily suspended during the investigation into Ben’s suicide, Derek didn’t have a choice. Instead, Penelope would set up a mini workstation in Derek’s office using his desktop computer, her laptop, and her government issued laptop and tablet so that she could stay with Spencer. When it was said and done, it was a pretty impressive rig, and she reassured Hotch when he called her questioningly that her work wouldn’t be impeded.

“I don’t think Hotch could say no to you even if he wanted to, you charmer,” Derek laughed as she hung up the phone triumphantly.

“Oh, I just know his sweet spots,” Penelope said, flipping her hair before poking his arm. “Just like I know yours.”

The two continued their lighthearted banter across the table, and Spencer only half listened as he sat and stared at the breakfast Derek had made for everyone.

Eggs, bacon, biscuit, jam.  
None of it was appealing.

While cleaning up the dishes (despite Penelope’s insistence that she could do it herself), Derek reminded Spencer that another officer would be by to ask some follow up questions, and that he was welcome to help himself to anything in the house; books, food, anything. Spencer simply nodded in acknowledgment.

“No reply?” Derek questioned.

Spencer pursed his lips and shrugged. “Nothing to say.” Despite that, he asked, “Can you take me to get my car on your way to the office?”

Derek seemed to hesitate for a moment before agreeing. “Sure, but don’t you go leaving PG alone here all day.”

_yep, house arrest. great, going from trapped in a room to trapped in a house. love the upgrade._

The drive over was quiet, the radio only providing the barest of masks for the tense quiet. It made Spencer miss the comfortable rides he used to share with Derek, but the thought was fleeting, and it was swatted away before it could take root. Spencer didn’t want to be comfortable, actually. He wasn’t keen on letting his guard down again, much less when alone with someone else. Thinking about it made him twitchy, fingers drumming on his leg as he studiously ignored the itchiness of his healing wounds.

Derek only spoke when he parked, before Spencer made a move to get out. “So for your psych appointment…”

“What.” It might have come out more hostile than Spencer intended, but he couldn’t find the energy to care. He already knew where this was heading.

“I can see if Hotch will give me the day, Emily might be back by then-”

“I’m pretty sure I can manage on my own, thanks,” Spencer said sarcastically. “God, what, you wanna put a tracker anklet on me too? Give me an itinerary to make sure I’m doing exactly what you say?” Spencer didn’t wait for a reply before pushing open the passenger door, intent on slamming it behind him.

“What? No, Reid-” Derek reached out to grab his forearm, to stop him, and Spencer flinched even as Derek retracted his hand without following through.

“Don’t touch me,” he said quietly, but with no less heat.

“I’m sorry, okay, it’s just-” Spencer didn’t wait, just closing the door on Derek and going to his car.

But he didn’t want to go back to Derek’s house yet. Penelope was there, and he wanted, needed, to be alone. Frankly, what he wanted was to sit in his car and shoot up the second Derek pulled away, which is precisely what ended up happening.

By the time he got back to Derek’s house, Penelope had made them both lunch, her carefully (obviously) avoiding asking where he had been. Still, he gave a weak excuse of getting a few extra things from his apartment (which he actually had done to supplement the alibi), knowing it wouldn’t have accounted for the whole time.


	74. Chapter 74

The next week past Spencer by in a blur. Penelope left after one more night, leaving Spencer to have plenty of time and space to completely diminish his dilaudid supply while Derek was at work. He excused himself from dinners with Derek by telling him it was triggering since Ben always used to make them dinners together, and it was only half-way a lie. Still, Derek would leave the food out until Spencer either ate or put it away himself. He had gone to two therapy sessions, one a secondary assessment and the other the first official therapy session. He had blown through them both as efficiently as possible, eager to not deal with the mortifying ordeal of a therapist trying to tell him how he should be recovering as though they could possibly know better than himself.

When Friday came, and Derek had left for work (always before Spencer even woke up), Spencer was faced with something of a problem. He was out of his drug of choice.

Without much thought, Spencer dialed the number of his old dealer from memory. When someone answered with a gruff ‘hello?’ Spencer asked “Hey, is Dustin working today?”

The line was relatively quiet for a moment, just movement, before a different voice was coming down the line. “Hey, this Ferb?”

Spencer recognized the voice. “Uh, no sorry, this is Reid?”

The line went quiet again, and when Dustin answered his previously boisterous tone was low. “Hey doc, I thought you got clean.”

“Yeah, uh, I did.” Spencer swallowed dryly. “So, you got some time today? I wanted to stop by for a bit.”

Dustin chit chatted with Spencer a bit, but he was impatiently hurrying him along for an answer. He couldn’t wait too long; he was already itching for a bump.

Within the hour, Spencer was on his way to Dustin’s apartment, knowing the way from memory. Spencer’s leg bounced at a stop light, and he tapped the wheel, rhythmless. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. He knew it wasn’t sustainable. He knew slipping back into addiction would be probably the worst thing he could choose to do for himself.

Still, he found himself knocking on Dustin’s door.

“Doc, wow it’s been… a long time,” Dustin said when he opened the door.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s come and gone. I mean, statistically speaking, people who try to overcome heroin a-”

“Jeez, dude, let’s- let’s not do that, okay?” Dustin said, his face screwing up in apparent distaste. “I’m literally a dealer, I think I know about the _statistics_. I just thought you’d beat ‘em, that’s all.”

_well. fuck._  
When Spencer entered the living room (dodging the hand Dustin extended toward him), he saw Dustin’s sister, Marie, sitting on the couch. She barely acknowledged him, which wasn’t a surprise but Spencer still gave a small ‘hello’ and a wave.

“You still-” he made an injecting hand motion- “or did you switch to pills?” Dustin asked.

“Er, the same… same thing,” Spencer said, watching as Dustin grabbed a small bag.

“Well, I’ve actually stopped carrying as much of this stuff. It doesn’t sell as well, y’know, ‘cause of the track marks.” Dustin’s eyes flicked down to Spencer’s arms, covered by long sleeves, and Spencer crossed his arms defensively.

“Didn’t think most junkies cared about that,” Spencer said.

“Well, my customers do. Most of them have high profile jobs like you.” Dustin pointed out.

_well, i’m out of work right now, so-_

“I’ve got my shipment, if you wanna be able to rustle up a bigger purchase,” Marie butted in. “Buy double and Dusty can get his dick done!”

“Marie!!” Dustin exclaimed, face turning pink. “Shut up!”

“What, I know twiggy already knows. Didn’t you still have your tits last time he was here?” She teased, cupping her own in jest.

“Jesus Mar, would you be quiet??” Dustin complained. “You’re an embarrassment.”

“Oh please, I just got you the rest of your dick-job money, so you’re welcome,” She laughed before turning to Spencer. “Come on twigs, the shit I got is from a different distributor than Dusty’s, so it’s a lil cheaper.”

Spencer didn’t even really bother to wait to think about it. “Sure, yeah, that’s fine.”


	75. Chapter 75

119 pounds.

Derek made breakfast again, only this time he didn’t just tell Spencer before going off to eat his own before getting ready for work. Instead, this time he made a plate for Spencer, and specifically told him to sit and eat. It was Saturday, meaning Derek had no rush.

“I don’t think I remember the last time I saw you eat an actual meal,” Derek said firmly, staring Spencer down.

_what would you know you work all day while im here_  
Spencer gave the faintest of smiles. “Really? Well, studies actually show that small snacks throughout the day, as opposed to three larger meals, promotes-”

“Spencer.” Derek just said his name, and Spencer shut his mouth, abruptly aware that this wasn’t just about breakfast, or him skipping dinners.

_he knows  
no, he doesn’t, he cant  
wait what does he know  
does he think it’s the drugs?  
does he think it’s ptsd?  
how can i spin this, how can i make him believe im fine, because i AM fine, im fine, and i don’t need someone up my ass about this-_

He thought this all in the space of a couple of seconds, and made the choice he knew he had to if he wanted to get himself off Derek’s radar.

Despite feeling like he was going to puke the whole time, despite feeling nauseous already from lack of drugs running through his system, despite the utter discomfort he felt, he cleaned his plate. It was a big breakfast, the sort of thing you could order at a restaurant, and Spencer felt like he had just eaten three or four days worth of food in one sitting.

_The potential for gastric rupture during periods of binging increases with the frequency of vomiting. Inflammation, tears, and possible rupture of the esophagus from stomach acid in the esophagus increases the risk of esophageal cancer._

Spencer complimented Derek’s cooking, and quickly helped clear the table.

_Teeth can stain and begin decaying from stomach acids released during frequent vomiting. Chronic irregular bowel movements and constipation, peptic ulcers and pancreatitis are also caused by repeated self-induced vomiting._

Spencer stretched lazily and told Derek that he was going to take a shower. Derek barely acknowledged it, just waving a hand as he continued to unload the dishwasher.

_Parotid salivary glands can become enlarged and sometimes painful when stimulated by acid in the vomit. The gastroesophageal sphincter can become loosened by repeated vomiting, leading to involuntary vomiting in the future, including when hiccuping or burping._

Spencer locked the door behind him, flipped on the shower, and without another thought bent over the toilet.

-

By midday, Spencer knew he was in withdrawals. His hands were shaking, and he was incredibly annoyed by the TV. He couldn’t sit still, much less focus on the book he had pulled from Derek’s bookcase almost thirty minutes ago.

Derek noticed, because of fucking course he did. “Are you okay kid?” He asked, side-eyeing Spencer as he shut the book with a huff.

“Fine,” he replied quickly, before adding on, “Cooped up. I think I’m gonna go for a drive.”

Derek looked like he was about to argue with him, but instead only hesitated for a moment before saying, “Alright, but I’m making dinner, so…”

“Got it, curfew.”

And that was what did it.

Derek made a 'for your own good' comment, Spencer snapped back, and then they were yelling. Spencer knew, rationally, that fighting wasn't exactly productive, but at that exact moment, he didn't care. He was irritable, jumpy, and pissed off that Derek was treating him like a grounded toddler. He told him as much.

"For someone with as big a brain as yours, you can be really _fucking_ stupid, Spencer," Derek said, and Spencer was only half-listening, instead eyeing where Derek's hands had balled into fists. He knew Derek wouldn't do anything, he _knew_ that, but he still had to remind himself to breathe. "The reason you're _here_ is because you have PTSD, I don't care what your doctor said, you should've been placed in- I don't know, a rehabilitation center, not just sent on your way."

"I'm fine-"

"Really??" Derek cut him off. "Because from where I'm standing, you look like a ghost." His voice cracked on the last word, and he clenched his jaw as though to steady his voice. "I... Everyone is worried about you."

Spencer's head hurt, and he had no clue how to reply. His eyes stung, and he blinked back tears that he refused to shed in front of Derek. Finally, he worked up the voice to say something. "I just want everything to go back to how it was before," he said. "I just want to act like this never happened."

Derek visibly softened. "But it did."

And just like that, Spencer was crying. Sobbing, really, and he took the two steps forward needed to bury his face in Derek's shoulder, not hugging him so much as using him as physical support. When Derek's arms wrapped around him, careful not to squeeze yet solid and warm, Spencer only flinched for a second before relaxing into him.

"This okay?" Derek murmured next to his ear.

Spencer nodded, and they stayed like that for a long moment, the slight awkwardness greatly overshadowed by their mutual need for a moment, just one moment, where everything was okay.

And when the moment passed, Spencer still left, this time without the dramatics of before, and thirty minutes later he was parked in a lot, seat reclined back and eyes closed, halfway unconscious and high as a kite. He didn't think about Derek, and how he was actually being a really good friend despite Spencer's outbursts. He didn't think about how upset Derek would be if he found out that Spencer was using. He didn't think about anything, really. That was the great thing about being high. He didn't have to think. He could just float on a series of jumbled euphoric feelings and empty, sleepy sensations, and _just. not. think._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : here. take it. take your moreid crumbs. that's all your getting for now dskjflkssdjfjfdhkjs


	76. Chapter 76

By the time Spencer got back, Derek was already working on dinner, and Spencer slipped back into his room while he was busy. Of course Derek had heard him come in, but he thankfully didn’t bother Spencer right away, which he was silently grateful for. He tossed his bag onto the chair in the room and kicked off his shoes into the closet messily. He took a couple deep breaths and pulled out his phone.

He hadn’t spoken to his mom since everything had happened, and Penelope could only reassure her for so long before she really did start to panic.

Spencer’s mom didn’t know everything that happened. In fact, she knew next to nothing, per Spencer’s request. Penelope and JJ had been on the phone with her, and Spencer told them to just tell her that he had gotten in a fight with Ben and that they weren’t together anymore. He was finally at a point where he was willing to talk to her, pretend nothing had happened and make it convincing, and now was the best time to do it; after the high had worn off and before the itch for more kicked in.

He dialed the number, and when the receptionist answered, he asked to speak to Diana. When she put his mom on, she didn’t wait for breath before launching in on him.

“What the hell, Spencer, It’s been over _two weeks_ , you couldn’t _call_ and talk to me? I’ve left you voicemails, did you listen to them? Jennifer said-”

“Mom, mom, please,” Spencer interrupted. “I’m sorry, I meant to call earlier I- we got, uh, called out on a case, it’s been busy.”

“Too busy to let your mother know you’re okay?” Diana countered, and at Spencer’s exasperated silence she huffed. “That’s what I thought. Now, tell me everything. Do I need to come out there and kick that young man’s ass? Jennifer said you two had a falling out, but I know my baby. He did something, didn’t he? That’s what’s got your feathers in a ruffle.” Spencer looked around the room admittedly theatrically, as though an explanation would manifest on the walls, but his mom provided him with a fib before he needed to make up his own. “Did he cheat on you? I’m telling you, the pretty ones can’t be trusted to stay faithful, _especially_ when they know they’re good looking.”

Spencer latched onto that, letting her believe she guessed correctly. He spun a yarn that was as generic as possible, and she comforted him in her own special brand of aggression mixed with coddling. Per usual, she took control of the conversation, moving on to a flurry of questions as to what he had been doing recently ( _nothing much, just working_ ), whether he had been eating ( _of course, mom_ ), if he had any upcoming plans ( _not right now_ ), before launching into updates from her own life.

Diana was the sort of person who, once she started talking, it was easy for her to simply keep going with minimal participation from the other party, so Spencer was able to listen without having to provide much of his own dialogue, just agreeing or giving a questioning prompt where applicable. It was easy to see where Spencer had inherited his chatty nature from, and it made him smile to listen to her prattle on.

He was on the phone long enough that Derek ended up knocking on his door to let him know that dinner was ready.

“Who was that?” Diana asked.

“Oh, uh, I’m over at Derek’s for dinner,” Spencer replied.

Diana didn’t hesitate to imply that Spencer was going to use him as a rebound, and Spencer had to stumble to assure her that that was _not_ what was happening.

“Well good, because god forbid you _do_ screw him and then try to quit your job because you feel awkward about it,” Diana said, equanimous in contrast to Spencer’s quickly reddening face and high pitched objections. Eager to end the abruptly awkward conversation, Spencer told her that he had to go, and hung up before more could be said on the subject.

He tossed his phone onto his bed and shook out his shoulders, muttering some self-encouragement before stepping out of his room for supper.


	77. Chapter 77

Dinner wasn’t as bad as breakfast had been, Derek more or less letting Spencer push around most of his food with only about half of it making it to his mouth. Derek talked about work while they ate, and that relaxed Spencer. He told Spencer that Emily had been cleared of any suspicion regarding Ben’s death, and the final coroner report deemed it a suicide. She was back at work, but seemed to still be pretty shaken. Derek also let Spencer know that his apartment had been swept through by the crime scene clean up crew, and that Penelope had insisted on helping Emily do some extra tidying.

“So, uh, even though I still don’t think you should… If you’re wanting to go back to your apartment, it’s all good to go,” Derek said.

Spencer thought a lot of things all at once, and he couldn’t really focus on just one to formulate a response right away.

Of course he would rather be home than bunked up in Derek’s guest bedroom, but if he was being really honest with himself, he still remembered the shivering feeling of utter paranoia that had trailed an icy path up his spine the last time he had been there. Derek had been right to keep him from staying there in the first place, but Spencer’s pride prevented him from saying so. On the other hand, going back to his own apartment would give him the privacy he craved, allowing him to not have to sneak around behind locked doors to shoot up, and not have someone make note of his dietary habits. It was the type of decision that Spencer knew he would make the wrong choice on.

“Sure, yeah. I have an appointment with Dr. Siebert on monday, I can- I’ll tell her and see what she says,” Spencer said, knowing that he was going to do it even if she didn’t recommend it.

They finished eating, and Spencer helped Derek clean up, clearing the table and rinsing the dishes before handing them off to Derek to put in the dishwasher. As they worked, Derek mentioned that JJ wanted to bring Henry by sometime over the next week because he missed ‘uncle Spen.’ Spencer couldn’t help the smile that broke out across his face, and he laughed when Derek imitated the boy pouting to his mom.

“I think everyone’s missing you, pretty boy,” Derek joked, but then his eyes widened slightly. “Oh, oh, sorry, shit I-”

“It’s fine.” Spencer twisted the sponge in his hand, keeping his fingers under the too-hot water. His stomach felt knotted, and he wasn’t actually sure if it was fine or not, but…

_but that’s **your** nickname for me, it doesn’t have anything to do with **him**. it’s different._

“I just don’t want to make you uncomfo-”

“You won’t.” Spencer looked up from where the water was bouncing off his wrist in tiny beads. “It’s okay, it’s...” _nice_ “normal.”

Derek just gave a small nod in acknowledgement before continuing what he was saying, accepting a pan from Spencer to put in the washer. “Emily and Rossi don’t have anyone to shove their paperwork onto, and Penelope got in trouble yesterday because I convinced her to come hang out in the bullpen because it was too quiet without you there yapping away.”

“Yeah, I'm sure Hotch will take that into consideration when deciding when I’m allowed back,” Spencer said sarcastically. “I swear, from the sound of it, I won’t be in again until he retires.”

“Who said that?” Derek questioned.

“No one, I just…” Spencer was embarrassed to admit exactly how distasteful he had been to Hotch the last time they spoke. “I said some things to him that were malapert.” Derek snickered, and Spencer responded quickly in protest. “It’s not funny! I’m pretty certain he hates me.”

“Nahh, he doesn’t hate you,” Derek said playfully. “He knows you went through a lot and that you didn’t mean whatever you said.”

“Yeah?”

“What, you want me to talk to him?”

“No, no,” Spencer said quickly. “I just think I’ll need to apologize to him, next time I see him.”

Derek smiled at that, and tossed the rag he was using to wipe down the counters into the rinsed out sink. “Well then, problem solved. Now, are you gonna come watch Grey’s with me, or do I have to text Emily the whole time?”

“Grey’s?” Spencer questioned.

“Grey’s Anatomy, it’s a hosp-”

“Oh!” Spencer remembered. “The show you and Emily were watching that night. With the take out.”

“There you go smart guy, that’s the one. Emily is like three episodes ahead of me, and she’s threatening to watch the season finale without me if I don’t catch up, what d’you say?” Derek asked.

Spencer only hesitated for the briefest of moments. But he felt good. He hadn’t felt this okay in ages, and he wasn’t even feeling terrible about dinner. He agreed, and before long he was folded up tightly into an armchair, an oversized throw blanket wrapped around him snugly. Derek flipped on the fireplace before stretching out on the couch, and the two settled in for a leisurely evening.


	78. Chapter 78

Spencer woke with a start, almost crying out before quickly realizing… _just a dream, it was just a dream…_ He scrubbed his face with trembling hands, trying to will away both the lingering fear and quickly blooming headache. When he had gone to bed that night, he had felt fine, really good, actually, but now that felt like it had been ages ago, and Spencer struggled to steady his hands.

He did _try_ to get back to sleep. He tossed and turned and fidgeted and tried to distract himself. He really did try. But it didn’t work and he knew why. He had felt so fine and normal for once last night, that he didn’t feel the urge to ‘self-medicate’ before going to sleep. And like clockwork, without the cloud weighing him down as he slipped into unconsciousness, he had terrible nightmares.

He was always so tired now. He just wanted to sleep.

He went through motions that were all too familiar to him, only having to pause to hold his breath, steadying his hand before injecting the drug into his vein. He dropped the needle into his messenger bag before his eyes fluttered shut, the tension oozing out from him. He lay there for a timeless moment, for what felt like an eternity yet only a second, before he felt… off. ‘Off’ being subjective, considering he was under the influence, but he was pretty certain that his heartbeat in his ears and the rising panic in his chest wasn’t how he was normally affected.

He quickly sat up and clumsily rooted through his bag for the bottle he had just used. However he became distracted when he found a gun instead. He stared at it hard for a long moment, confused. He didn’t have a gun. Hotch took it when he… When he what? Spencer jerked when he heard a noise at his window, flipping around to see what it was. It was a light tapping noise, and it had stopped as soon as it had started. Spencer looked back at his hand, and… he was holding a book. Just a book. With a gun on the cover. Spencer couldn’t remember what he had been doing, but his vision kept going in and out of focus, and he was pretty sure that was bad. Why was the room so dark? Spencer got up from the bed and made his way toward the door, fumbling against the wall for the light switch as he went. When he managed to turn on the light, he froze. He didn’t recognize the room. His eyes seemed to be moving slower than they were supposed to, and everything was wrong. His chest hurt, it was- Where were his contacts? His glasses? Bathroom. Where’s the bathroom? He opened the door and looked down the hallway. His heartbeat was in his ears, loud and fast. _I know, door. Third._ He started down the hall, but had to stop after two or three steps. He stood still, waiting for the walls to come back into focus. As they did, he thought he saw a shadow move. There was someone behind him, but when he turned nothing was there. Nothing was there? No, he couldn’t see it. Them. Him. Ben. Oh, Ben made dinner. Spencer changed his course and headed toward the kitchen. Ben wouldn’t want him to miss breakfast. And... What? No Ben wasn’t there, but the stovetop was on. Spencer stared at the burner, the red heat swaying his vision. Ben wasn’t there, where was he? Spencer blinked slowly. _oh, i should get out. get out… Ben’s mad?_ Abruptly Spencer darted across the kitchen to the knife block, grabbing the biggest knife available. He was definitely being watched. Spencer stood there, watching the corners of the room, for a long minute, before he decided to check the living room. He set the knife down on the stovetop and stood in the middle of the kitchen. He was going to check the living room. _where am i?_ He jumped as he heard a noise; footsteps? No it… He had to hide before… _what?_ Ben was gonna kill him. He was on a case, where was the kid? There was a kid, JJ was with it… No, it wasn’t a kid, they were- that was weeks ago- Spencer was definitely kidnapped. He tried to take a step forward to find them, but the room swirled and he was on the floor. He was being watched, he was being- his chest hurt so badly. He stared at his own legs, sprawled out on the hard floors. Were those his legs? He tried to move his foot. It didn’t move. He stared. _Tobias broke it…_ Then he noticed a scar on his thigh, only half hidden by his boxers. He shoved the shorts further up out of the way to fully see it. _that wasn’t there, when did he do that, that can’t..._ Spencer had to help… Who? _oh, i’ve got to… got to get this off_ Spencer rubbed a hand over the scars on his leg. Nothing happened. He looked up sharply, hearing a voice come from the living room. He saw the handle of the knife peeking off the edge of the stovetop, and he grabbed it. The handle was warm- hot. _left the stove on…_ Spencer almost dropped the knife, but instead shifted his grip lower. _contacts…_ He had to get his contacts. He couldn’t see very well. His chest hurt. His heartbeat was so loud… Spencer looked back at his leg. _got to get this off?_ It’d make Ben stop. He was in the fucking livingroom. Spencer looked across the kitchen, barely able to see the window in the dining room from where he was seated. But he could. And the window was dark. Where was the sun? It was breakfast. Ben… made breakfast? No, no _it’s looking at you make it go away_ Spencer gripped the knife tighter and pressed the wide side of the blade against his thigh.

He screamed.

Derek was shaking him.

Derek was on the other side of the kitchen, coming towards him.

Was he awake?

He couldn’t breathe.

Derek was talking too fast.

He was fuck _ing killing him god please stop please it hurts fuck can’t breathe they’re he knife hurt Ben can’t fuck BURNS watching lights window can’t breathe stop living room breathe_ -


	79. Chapter 79

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N ;
> 
> GUYS IT'S A HOTCH POV CHAPTER I'M SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS
> 
> first time writing his pov judge gently UWU

Aaron slammed into a parking place, barely sparing the moment to shut off his vehicle before racing out of the car and across the lot.

“We can discuss this later, Jess. You wanted partial custody? Well, this comes with the territory,” he said sharply, more sharply than he had intended, before hanging up on her and entering the facility. Before the receptionist could ask him what he needed, he zeroed in on Derek, still in his sleepwear, appearing to be two seconds from yelling at the nurse he was speaking to.

“Excuse us,” Aaron said, and pulled Derek away, leaving her to hurry off before she could get roped back in. “Any news?” He asked, a steadying hand on Derek’s shoulder.

“It’s been like two hours since there’s been any update,” Derek said, and Aaron could see the edges of Derek’s angry mask fraying, chipping away to reveal the fear and anguish beneath. “You know everything I do, and I can’t- they haven’t said anything _new_ and they aren’t letting me in to-”

“Derek, you need to stop, take a breath.”

Derek looked at him like he had slapped him, and took a step back, allowing Aaron’s hand to fall from his shoulder. “Take a _breath??_ Are you fucking with me right now?? I just found Spencer on my kitchen floor literally _dying on MY watch_ , and you want me to just be cool with that??”

“No, but I do expect you to tone it down before you get the both of us removed from the premises,” Aaron said, eyebrows raised. “I understand you’re upset, but you’re not going to achieve anything productive by-”

“ _Productive?_ ” Derek scoffed. “The last time I saw him, he wasn’t breathing,” He deadpanned. “I think it’d be very _productive_ for me to see with my own eyes that that isn’t still the case.”

“You yelling at a nurse isn’t going to make that happen,” Aaron argued, and guided Derek to a chair. “Now, what exactly happened?”

Derek’s shoulders hunched, and he scrubbed his face tiredly before replying. “He’s using again, Hotch,” He said, sounding defeated. “Now, I _knew_ he was acting differently, but I thought- I thought it was PTSD, not _That_.” Aaron was silent, letting Derek work through his thoughts, and eventually, he continued. “I woke up because he screamed, and when I found him, he was on the floor, and he had a _knife_ , and I thought he had…” he didn’t have to finish the thought for Aaron to know what he meant. “He managed to, uh, burn his leg somehow, which I didn’t even notice until the EMT pointed it out to his partner. He was just saying nonsense, he was obviously out of it, y’know, and then he started gasping as he was being loaded into the ambulance, choking, like- like he couldn’t catch his breath.”

Aaron decided to switch gears, both for Derek’s sake and his own. “Have you told any of the others?”

Derek shook his head. “No, no, I was going to, but… I figured, they can’t do anything right now, might as well let them sleep and tell them in the morning.”

“It _is_ morning,” Aaron noted. It was pushing almost 6 a.m. when he had pulled up to the hospital, and the light outside the glass automatic doors gradually grew brighter.

“Yeah, it is.”

Aaron looked at Derek for a long moment, then leaned back in his chair. “Let’s wait to tell them until we have some definitive answers.”

Derek didn’t reply, but he didn’t need to. Aaron was giving him time, and it was all he really could give him at the moment, so he gave it willingly. Aaron remembered the last time he had been in an ER for Spencer, and his stomach clenched. Aaron wondered if he too had looked like that after Foyet, covered armpit to waist in gauze and stitches, weak and wide-eyed. He wondered if Spencer looked somehow worse now, if he looked even gaunter, if his eyes were even darker, if his hands trembled even more... Aaron hadn't been to see Spencer since he was discharged from the hospital after being held by Ben. He wondered if he could've prevented this if he had been. He wondered if Derek, who had asked Aaron his opinion before offering to house Spencer, would still offer to do so after this. If Derek would be _able_ to without the need to make sure Spencer was recovering adequately developed into an obsession. He wondered if there was a way Spencer would be able to recover completely after this. Aaron wondered if there would _be_ an 'after this.'

And at that Aaron decided to stop wondering.


	80. Chapter 80

Derek had finally fallen asleep in his chair, his adrenaline having worn off hours ago. They had received exactly one update as to Spencer’s condition; he had been administered naloxone, a rapid drug test revealing a cocktail of uppers and downers in his systems, and was provided with artificial ventilation as his respiratory system kicked back into function. Overall, the ordeal was handled in a time-efficient manner, and his recovery on that front was expected to go well. At the time, he was undergoing a skin graft, and the outlook for that was positive as well.

Aaron had called Jess back to apologize and fully explain the situation, and then proceeded to call the rest of the team to update them on Spencer’s condition, though vaguely, in an attempt to allow him some level of privacy in this. He requested that they wait until Spencer was doing better to visit him, as everyone being there might only agitate him further.

Really, even he and Derek were just as useful here as at their own homes, but Aaron knew Derek wouldn’t leave even if he was physically hauled to the door, and Aaron wouldn’t leave him alone. Even asleep, Derek looked tense, stressed, worried. As though he were just waiting for some sort of alarm to jolt him awake. Aaron knew from his own experience that when Derek awoke, he’d feel just as tired as before he drifted off.

Still, when the doctor finally reappeared, Aaron woke Derek with a soft shake. The doctor explained that Spencer was still coming out of his medicine-induced haze, and needed to rest, but as long as the monitoring nurse was present they could go in one at a time for just a few minutes.

“I’ll go first,” Aaron said before Derek could volunteer. “I’ll be quick,” he said to Derek, tone indicative of his intent to try and assess the situation while also giving Derek as much time as possible. Derek looked like he was going to argue, but then gave in, instead opting to stand up and pace while waiting his turn.

Aaron followed the doctor up to Spencer’s hospital room door, and took a moment to compose himself before entering.

It didn’t really help, as he could feel his expression fall as soon as he set sight on Spencer.

He was thin, just as thin as he had been the last time Aaron had seen him propped up by the flimsy white hospital pillows, but now instead of looking at Aaron with fear and anger, he just looked blank. His tired eyes followed Aaron’s movements as he crossed the room to settle into the chair beside his bed, and he blinked sluggishly as the silent question of who would speak first drew on.

Aaron broke the stalemate. “Derek is in the lobby. He’s very worried. We all are.”

“I don’t really… remember what happened,” Spencer said. “But I know…” Spencer looked down at his lap, twisting his hands through the sheet’s fabric. “I mean, it was, uh…” His face screwed up as he tried to say it, and Aaron waited. Spencer had to say it, had to admit it. “I took… It was laced.”

“Oh, so you didn’t do the mixing yourself. What a relief.” It might have been harsh, but Aaron wasn’t here to coddle him. It wasn’t what was needed at this point.

Spencer seemed to churn in his brain for a long moment before managing a reply. “I’m sorry. I… I’ve messed up.”

“Are you sorry for doing it, or are you just sorry you got caught?” Aaron asked, quiet but firm, trying desperately to not remember the time he had asked his brother Sean the exact same question. Spencer couldn’t reply right away, an almost pleading expression on his face, and that was enough of an answer for Aaron. He stood. “Okay then. I’m going to speak with your doctor about your length of stay. Burn injuries can take one to two weeks to heal enough for the patient to be discharged, I’m going to try to encourage the full two weeks. Two weeks under supervision, do you see what I’m saying?” _two weeks to detox in a clinical setting._

“Please, Hotch, I- I’m sorry,” Spencer sputtered quickly. His voice wavered as though he were on the brink of tears. “Please, I can do better, I- I can stop again, just don’t- I’ve never even considered another career path, and- and- and I _can’t_ lose you guys- the team, the job, it’s all I’ve ever-”

Aaron stared at Spencer in shock as he spoke before shaking himself into action again. “Spencer.” He said it sharply, and Spencer clammed up immediately, even as he trembled like a leaf. “Spencer,” he repeated it far softer this time, trying to reassure him. “I never even considered firing you as an option. I wasn’t thinking about work at all.” He wanted to grab Spencer’s shoulder to focus him, or hold his hand or _something_ , but he knew how Spencer would respond so he kept himself to himself. “I’m not here as your boss, I’m here as your friend, because I care about you and you’re hurt.”

About a million different emotions seemed to flit across Spencer’s face in but a second, finally landing on pensive. He was quiet for a long moment before practically whispering, “I meant to apologize for before, what I said about you and… what happened to you.”

Aaron stiffened minutely. “You already did.”

“Yes, but not… I wanted to say it properly.” Aaron didn’t reply, but nodded his head in a _’go on’_ manner, so Spencer continued. “I’m sorry, I lashed out at you when you were just doing what you felt was necessary. Well, moreso sorry for how I lashed out. Something like that… It shouldn’t be weaponized against you.”

Aaron consciously unclenched his jaw slowly and took a breath. “Thank you,” Aaron replied simply, but he meant it. “I’m going to go find your doctor, okay?”

Spencer cast his eyes down, but nodded. “Does Derek…” He started to ask, but trailed off.

Aaron guessed where he was going. “Derek’s been waiting in the lobby since your admittance. If it’s alright with you I’ll send him in to see you.”


	81. Chapter 81

While waiting for Derek to enter the room, Spencer combatted his nerves by replaying Hotch’s words in his head. _I wasn’t thinking about work at all. I’m here as your friend, because I care about you and you’re hurt._ A smile tugged at Spencer’s lips, and even though it was under bitter circumstances, it had been… nice to hear Hotch say those things, and with the medication he had been administered still working it’s way out of his system, it made feel a bit more inclined to indulge his emotions. He scrubbed a hand over his face, wondering how obvious it was that he had had a meltdown minutes ago.

Still, that bit of comfort paled as a knock at the door signalled Derek’s arrival. Gradually more and more lucid, the panic began to set in, and he knew Derek would likely yell at him. Tell him that he was a liar, that he couldn’t be trusted, that he regretted letting him stay with him… Spencer almost asked the nurse to not let Derek in, but he had already agreed to have him as a visitor and she was already opening the door and…

He didn’t look mad.

Still, Spencer watched apprehensively as Derek approached, and was surprised when he leaned over with arms outstretched and breathed out a strained “Can I?” Spencer nodded, more out of surprise than anything, and the next second he was wrapped up in a tight hug, his torso twisted only slightly uncomfortably, and completely supported by Derek’s vice-like grip. He imagined his leg where he was burned would hurt immensely at the shift if it wasn’t almost completely numb. Spencer nervously fluttered his hands at Derek’s shoulders, and they were both quiet for a moment before Derek said in a low voice, almost inaudible, “I thought I lost you. I really thought you were… you were gone.”

Spencer didn’t really know how to reply to that.

He hadn’t been lying to Hotch when he had said he didn’t really remember the previous night. He knew that he had woken up in the middle of the night, he had shot up, and then he just remembered feeling paranoid and at some point his leg was severely burned. It was all a blur, but the way Derek was reacting made Spencer realize even moreso that circumstances were disconcerting. Spencer pulled back, and Derek responded quickly, giving him his space back.

“I’m…” He was going to say _’I’m okay’_ , but the truth was he wasn’t, and Derek had already made it clear he was tired of hearing Spencer say that, so instead he settled on “... Sorry.”

Derek cast his eyes down and pursed his lips, nodding. “Yeah, I am too.”

“For what?” Spencer asked, scrunching his face up in confusion.

“For assuming that I knew what you were going through, that I knew what you needed meanwhile you’ve been dealing with this on top of everything else and I didn’t even know.”

“Well, to be fair I was actively trying to keep you from knowing, so…” Spencer gave a smile at his own joke, though fleeting. “I know pretty much every fact and statistic available about the risks of abusing drugs, but I just… It helped. My therapist didn’t notice either.”

“Therapists aren’t mind readers Spencer, you know that. They can only help you as far as you let them.” Derek chided him gently. “I know you can talk your way out of just about anything, but that isn’t one of them. You get out of it what you put in.”

“Yeah that sounds about like what a therapist would say,” Spencer said.

Derek pulled a face and replied, “Probably because one did. To me. And I have to admit that it helped. Still does.” Spencer furrowed his brow at that and looked down at his lap where his fingers were furled around the sheets. His silence gave space for Derek to push a little more. “Promise you’ll try?”

Gnawing his lip, Spencer nodded. “Sure, I will,” he promised, but he wasn’t 100% sure how that’d go. He’d try, but knowing himself he’d probably fight the therapist throughout.

Spencer’s mind wandered, considering what he’d share with his therapist and how, and what the result might be, before refocusing, remembering that Derek was there. When he looked back to Derek, he found him leaning on the hospital bed railing, just looking at him. Spencer was immediately self conscious. He knew he must look particularly disheveled.

“What?” He questioned, reaching up to smooth down his messy hair.

Derek shrugged up his shoulders. “Nothing, I’m just glad to see you conscious that's all.” He grinned at his own dry humor before continuing. “I don’t know if now is the best time, but I feel like I’ve already waited too long and tonight really made me realize that I need you to at least know.”

“Know what?” Spencer questioned, confused. 

Derek’s gaze fell downward again, and he drew a long breath before looking back up and saying, “I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you too,” Spencer replied with a smile, even as hearing those words squeezed his chest.

“No that’s not what I-” Derek cleared his throat awkwardly. “I mean, I think I’m _in_ love with you…”

The next few seconds felt incredibly slowed to Spencer, as the light smile on his face slowly fell, and he pulled back from where Derek sat beside him closely. About a thousand thoughts pinged through his skull at breakneck speeds, his heart beat faster than a hummingbird, and he wondered vaguely if he were about to have a panic attack. He felt like Ben was by his ear again, saying _’i love you’_ , and Spencer went cold. He felt trapped, suddenly, in this hospital room, stuck in a bed with Derek beside him professing feelings that Spencer couldn't handle right now.

He didn’t want anyone’s goddamn love right now.

“No,” Spencer replied slowly, voice as tense and rigid as his body. “No, you were right, now isn’t the best time. I... I’m sorry but I think you should go.”

Derek looked taken aback, obviously upset. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Oh I have quite a few things I could say right now, not least of which being how _fucking_ dare you? How you could possibly think that _now_ is the time to do this is beyond me. My ex just died after literally torturing me, and now I’ve got to detox in a hospital for two weeks, overall really just the worst month of my life, but for some reason that was an appealing set of circumstances to tell me this under??” Spencer knew he was being harsh, but he couldn’t seem to help it. If anything, he hoped his response to Derek’s confession would drive him away, make him stop ‘thinking he was in love.’ “I’m sorry, I just really can’t do this right now, I- I need you to leave,” Spencer repeated, trying very hard to either not cry or not start screaming. Maybe both.

Derek, despite looking like it was _not_ what he wanted to do, obliged Spencer’s request and left without another word in strained silence. Spencer watched him leave, remembering when he had been sure he loved him too. But now, he thought about love and relationships and just panicked. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t and he thought _Derek should have known that, should understand how I feel, but instead he decided to just unload that onto me as if he expected it to be a magical cure-all as opposed to just another burdensome thought that will eat away at me…_

His thoughts drifted to his immediate solution, finding a fix, before he acknowledged again that he was going to be stuck here specifically to _not_ do that. He recalled the last time he went through withdrawals, and shuddered.

This wasn’t going to be exactly fun.


	82. Chapter 82

Hotch visited every day for five days.

The first day, Spencer was shaky and irritable, sweats and muscle spasms making him unsociable, but Hotch still sat with him for as long as visitation regulations would allow, ignoring Spencer when he said he wanted him to leave, as if he knew Spencer didn’t mean it.

The second day, Spencer was vomiting half the time he was there, feverish and going through the peak of his cravings. Hotch rubbed his back and told him he could get through it. Spencer doubted that he was right, but the reassurance helped him want to. Hotch’s hand between his shoulder blades was the first time in a long time that he hadn’t overreacted to someone touching him, and he only realized it after Hotch had left.

The third day, Spencer was exhausted, insomnia and nightmares preventing him from getting any sleep, and he was twitchy from some hellish cocktail of anxiety, irritability, and the fading muscle spasms and chills. Hotch was only in the room for minutes before Spencer fell asleep, comforted by his presence, and though he woke up again sooner than he would’ve liked, he was still grateful for the rest he had gotten.

The fourth day, Spencer was thinking clearer, and couldn’t help but question Hotch as to why he visited Spencer every day. He had a demanding job and a kid at home, so why would he choose to be here? Hotch was quiet for a long moment before replying that he shouldn’t have to go through it alone, and that he felt responsible for him.

Which was probably why, on the fifth day, Spencer was angry. He knew it was childish of him to be selfish and bitter, but he wasn’t sleeping and he was understimulated in this stark hospital setting and he was fairly certain Hotch was the only person keeping him sane.

But then the team was called onto a case.

Spencer knew Hotch couldn't _not_ go. They were already understaffed and the killer's preliminary profile indicated that they weren't going to be taking a breather anytime soon. Still, Spencer felt hurt. “The team can manage without you, can’t they?” He said, knowing full well how petulant he sounded.

“Reid,” Hotch replied, in turn sounding for all the world like an overworked father, “you know we’re understaffed right now. You’re over the worst of the physical symptoms, and now you need to handle the psychological ones. Isn't your first counseling appointment scheduled for today? You can call me after that, I'll try to pick up."

"No, you'll be working a case," Spencer said it factually, but couldn't help expressing his annoyance at the unrealistic promise in his tone as well. "You don't take calls on cases. Even when Jack was sick, you let Jess handle it until you got back."

"Well I don't think Jess will be willing to watch you too," Hotch replied quickly, his dry humor only barely catching a wisp of light-heartedness before the conversation felt heavy again. "Call me, Reid. And,” he continued thoughtfully, “you should give JJ a call too. She’s upset she wasn’t able to come see you before we got called on this case.” Hotch got up, and Spencer knew that he had already kept him here longer than he should’ve. He’d gotten the call during his visit, and he really should’ve left as soon as he had. Spencer felt a bit guilty at that, but instead of worrying about that, he just said goodbye to Hotch as he left.

After Hotch was gone, Spencer’s burn was redressed, the nurse assuring him that it was healing well, and that he was perfectly fine to walk and lightly exercise, which in turn another nurse used to try and encourage him to join some of the other detox patients in a yoga class. He declined, but did go to the meeting afterward not to talk, but listen to the other patients share their stories. He hated going to those meetings for the sole reason that they reminded him of how far he had come in the past, only to land himself right back at the starting line. He still had his one-year chip hidden away in a drawer in his room. He wondered if he’d be issued a new one in a year’s time, or if he’d just recycle his old one. He wasn’t sure which would be worse, but he decided to look on the bright side; he was already thinking he’d make it a year, and that optimism and self-confidence was something his counselor would eat up.

Of course, to be fair, he wasn’t exactly planning on being kidnapped again and administered heroin against his will within the next year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Hey guys! Sorry for the delay, this is, more than anything, an 'I'm still alive!' update lol.
> 
> Last week's update was skipped because I was very sick and not able to do shit, including write, unfortunately, and this week has been super busy with getting ready to move!! I'm super excited about moving, but it is really time-consuming and stressful, so it's leaving me without as much time as I'd like to update. But!! The next update should be the normal length (or hopefully longer), so please don't think this fic is abandoned! Your regularly scheduled updates will resume momentarily!!
> 
> In the meantime, if you're interested, I wrote a short, fluffy little one shot for Halloween with Derek, Pen, and Spencer dressing up! <3 <3 It's just called "Trick or Treat" so it should be easy to spot on my works page.
> 
> Thank you guys for your patience, and have a good week <3 <3


	83. Chapter 83

“Sorry Spencer, we’re under strict orders to not feed you _any_ work-related intel,” JJ said, voice sounding slightly too enthusiastic for an apology.

Spencer groaned audibly. “Please, you don’t understand, I’m not built to have time off, I need to be productive and the literary selection here is abysmal, I can’t believe they call that stack of magazines and dictionaries a _library_.”

JJ laughed freely at his devastation, but still didn’t budge. “I’m glad to hear you. You sound well,” she changed the topic.

“Yeah? Well thanks, I feel terrible,” Spencer replied. “Whose idea was it to put recovering addicts in the same building as the medications they’re addicted to?” 

The line was quiet for a long moment, long enough that Spencer said her name questioningly as though she had hung up, then JJ spoke. “Sorry, sorry I just… I’m sorry I didn’t come see you, I want-”

“Oh, gosh, no, JJ you’re fine,” Spencer said quickly. “You can ask Garcia, you didn’t miss much. I’ve just been really tired more than anything,” he said, the white lie meant to be reassuring. After all, what was the point in telling her about his bad time other than just making her feel worse, too? “What about Emily, how’s she?”

“She’s doing better; still stressed, but she’s finally talking to Amanda, but I don’t know if they’re going to stay friends. Ceria is apparently moving states,” JJ said, then spoke to someone off the phone. “It’s Spencer. Yeah, one sec- Hey Spencer, Rossi wants to talk.”

Spencer agreed, there was a bit of shuffling, and then Rossi’s voice came through the phone. “Hey kiddo, how’re you holding up?”

Spencer tensed his jaw, but paused ( _thanks counseling_ he thought sarcastically) before exhaling and replying, “Tired, bored. Thanks. How’s the case progressing?”

“We’ll survive,” Rossi said. “Don’t you worry, we’ve got everything handled. You just focus on you for now.”

“Yeah, well, not like I _can_ focus on anything else in this place,” Spencer said. “You know they have five different types of meditation class options? It’s like the more they try to relax you-”

“-The more they stress you out,” Rossi finished for him. “Yeah, I didn’t take you for one to like the group yoga type of thing.”

They chatted for a few more minutes, mostly about Spencer using the decrepit desktop in the ‘library’ to apartment hunt, before Rossi had to hang up to get back to work, which was all well and good except for the fact that approximately thirty seconds after hanging up, Spencer had another call incoming from Derek. Spencer stared at his phone, trying to decide whether or not to answer, up until it went to voicemail, as he had the last time Derek had tried to call him. Derek hadn’t left a voicemail, either, so Spencer knew he’d either have to pick up eventually, or face Derek in person, and the thought made his stomach twist.

Spencer hadn’t seen Derek since he confessed his feelings for him, actively telling his doctor to take Derek off his visitor list to prevent him from even being allowed to. Maybe it was childish or petty, but the fact of the matter was that Spencer was upset and already going through enough without having to try and work out exactly what the hell was going on with Derek.

His counselor agreed that while he shouldn’t feel like it’s his responsibility to deal with someone else’s feelings, he also shouldn’t shut people out. Even if he was… confused about where he stood with Derek, he was a man of his word and he would actually try to work with his counselor (and therapist, when discharged) as he had previously promised.

So, he shared everything with the counselor.

Well, almost everything.

He shared how he felt about himself, about his coworkers, about his family, about Ben… They went over his need for self-sufficiency and fear of being seen as infantile or dependent versus his belief that he was replaceable to everyone around him, which Spencer hated to even begin to acknowledge. They talked about how it was hard for him to socialize, even if he was relatively sociable, which was why it was even more damaging when a person who he truly trusted turned on him. He cried. They discussed how he had started taking Dilaudid in the first place, and what led him to start again, and how they were factors outside his control… and how there were others that were. They talked about his nightmares and his touch aversion.

But Spencer didn’t breathe a word about his eating, or lack thereof.

His counselor never asked and, since it had nothing to do with his addiction or recent trauma, Spencer didn’t feel the need to divulge that particular… propensity.

Many drug addicts, recovering or otherwise, tended to have terrible dietary habits anyways, so him being thin wasn’t an anomaly, and he had been put on an eating schedule with nurse-monitored mealtimes, so it was unsurprising that the counselor didn’t question him, especially as he put on weight during his stay.

Spencer found himself wondering, not for the first time during his stay, how much he weighed, but he had decided to not weigh himself until he was out of the hospital. If putting on five pounds would make the medical staff oblivious, then he could do that for now.


	84. Chapter 84

_taptaptap. taptaptap. taptaptap. taptaptap. taptaptap. taptapta-_

“Stressed?” Emily asked.

“I’m not stressed, why would I be stressed?” Spencer asked, furrowing his brow. He tucked his hand under his thigh to keep from tapping, staring out the passenger window as Emily drove.

Emily had been the one to pick him up once he was discharged, and she invited him to stay with her since things with Derek were awkward.

“Does everyone know?” Spencer had asked, and Emily assured him that only she and Penelope knew, and the only reason she knew herself was because she accidentally overheard Penelope and Derek talking. It was Penelope’s suggestion for Spencer to stay somewhere else when he was discharged (which Spencer had already planned on, but it was nice to not have to be the one to deal with that confrontation), and Emily offered her futon. Spencer, again, said that he’d be fine to stay at his own apartment until his new lease started, but Emily and Penelope wouldn’t have it.

And so that was how he ended up in Emily’s passenger seat, his couple of bags in the back seat.

The next week or so was very busy, between trying to find a new place and going to appointments. When he settled on a place and got the preliminary requirements out of the way, he convinced Emily to let him (accompanied by her, Derek, JJ, and Henry) go home to work on packing his things. Spencer was actually the one to suggest Derek come, feeling guilty for how long it had been since they’d talked, even if it was his own doing.

Emily and Spencer were the first to arrive, soon followed by Derek. Emily said hello, but Derek just barely returned it before focusing on Spencer.

“Hey, how’re you doing?” He asked, trepidatious.

“Better,” Spencer replied, and gave him a small nervous smile. He didn’t really want to talk about _it_ right now, and Derek seemed to understand that, instead changing the topic and the three of them chatting until JJ arrived.

Henry was a surprise, and JJ apologized, explaining that her babysitter canceled last minute. Spencer assured her it was fine, scooping up Henry into his arms. He was noticeably heavier than the last time he had seen him.

“Are you still sick?” Henry asked, his childish, innocent pointedness comical. “Mommy said you were sick for a long time so we couldn’t come visit.”

JJ gave him another apologetic expression, but Spencer went with it. He understood that the full extent of the circumstances weren’t exactly something that Henry needed to hear about. “Yeah, I was, but you know what, I went to the doctor for a while, and they made me feel a lot better,” Spencer said.

“So can you come watch movies with us??” Henry asked, excited.

“Oh, honey, that’s a you and Jack playdate, I think Spencer is going to be busy,” JJ interjected. “Remember, we’re here to help, not be in the way.”

“I’m not in the way, right Uncle Spencer?” Henry demanded.

“No, of course not,” Spencer assured him. “How about we race up the stairs? First one to the door wins, do you remember which one’s mine?” He asked, setting Henry back on his feet. Henry didn’t wait to reply, darting up on all fours with Spencer grabbing a couple of boxes and trailing after, partly to let him win and partly to make sure he wasn’t going to fall.

“I win I win!” Henry shouted, running straight into Spencer’s apartment door, banging onto it with open palms.

“No fair, I was carrying boxes, and you’re so fast!” Spencer said as he dug out his key to unlock the door.

“Mom says that when I’m older, I should do tack,” Henry said proudly.

“Tack?” Spencer questioned. “Don’t you mean track?”

“No it’s called tack, it’s like racing in a big circle,” Henry insisted, but Spencer was only half listening as they went through the door, the others close behind.

It was spotless. The broken coffee table was gone, the carpet was cleaned, everything was straightened up. It even looked like it was dusted. If he hadn’t been there previously, he’d have never known what had happened here.

“You okay?” JJ asked. Spencer nodded. “Alright, where do you wanna start?”

-

“I’m never moving again after this,” Spencer announced, practically falling down onto his couch, one of the last pieces of furniture left in the house.

“Yeah, why do you have so much _stuff_?” Emily asked, pushing a blanket down into a box. “I mean, it’s borderline hoarding.”

“I don’t think I have an unusual emotional attachment to things,” Spencer said. “Or have compulsions to buy things, I just like to… That was a joke, you were joking,” Spencer cut himself off, realizing she wasn’t seriously suggesting he had a hoarding compulsion.

Henry climbed up onto the couch next to Spencer, mocking his slumped posture. “We got a lot work done,” he said very seriously.

Emily and Derek, who had notably done most of the heavy lifting, looked at him and then each other incredulously.

“Yeah buddy, sure,” Emily replied, opting to flop down on the floor. “So, what are we thinking for dinner?” She questioned, looking at Spencer with raised eyebrows.

Spencer blinked. _oh yeah…_ “Uh, Thai?”

“You always choose Thai,” Derek pointed out.

“Take out, or dining in?” JJ asked.

“Well, considering we already loaded the entire kitchen into the moving van…” Emily replied. “How about the one in Montclair? I’ll ride with Derek, so that Spencer can ride with you,” Emily suggested, addressing Henry, who glowed at the idea.

“I can show you my best song!” Henry exclaimed, jumping up.

“It’s just baby shark,” JJ stage-whispered as they all started making their way downstairs.

“Baby shark?” Spencer questioned. “I don’t think I’m familiar with that one.”

“Well you’re about to be,” JJ said, and her grim expression foretold that it was going to be a _long_ ride with Henry’s selected soundtrack.


	85. Chapter 85

129 pounds. (His scale was one of the first things he unpacked.)

Spencer paced as he spoke on the phone, side-stepping half empty boxes and half-sorted stacks of books.

“- so she had to either dump the supply or find somewhere else to sell out of, because you know how I am with that kind of shit,” Dustin said, speaking quickly, defensively.

Spencer rubbed his eyes, half out of exhaustion and half out of annoyance. He had specifically told Dustin that they couldn’t keep talking because of Dustin’s ‘career path’, yet he had still felt the need to call Spencer with menial status updates after Spencer had warned him about one of their supplies potentially being tampered with. Spencer let Dustin say his piece, but ended the conversation quickly, and after hanging up debated blocking the number, but he liked Dustin and would feel bad for doing it.

Before he made up his mind, he received a text from Penelope.

_howz the new place lookin?? istg if u dont invite me ovr 2 c how u r, ill show up sans rsvp & do an inspction. imysm_

Spencer cracked a smile. Whereas once upon a time all of her abbreviations might have given him pause, he now considered himself to be a decently prolific texter. While he still preferred phone calls (and there would always be the charm of handwritten letters), even he could admit the convenience of texting wasn’t something to turn one’s nose up to.

He typed out a quick reply before he tossed his phone down onto his couch and went back to unpacking, organizing his bookcase in alphabetical order by author’s last name despite knowing that he’d have it messed up again in no time, especially since he still wasn’t back to work.

He had spoken to Hotch about a set date for his return, and Hotch said that when his therapist gave him the all clear, then he could. But that meant that Spencer had at _least_ another week out, as his first appointment was mostly intake and paperwork and his next wasn’t for another four days.

Spencer wondered how hard he could push the ‘I need work to make me feel productive and help return to normalcy’ narrative before it was deemed an avoidance coping mechanism, despite that not being true. It might have been much earlier on, that was true, but at this point, Spencer really did just simply want to get back to work.

When his appointment finally did roll around, Spencer tried to focus the conversation along those lines, which paid off, and before long he was almost smugly handing Hotch his paperwork saying he was cleared to return to work.

Hotch glanced over the paper before turning a critical eye to Spencer.

“Sit,” he said, motioning to the chair across from his desk. Spencer obliged. “I’m keeping you out of the field if we have a case in the next few weeks while you settle back in. I’m also going to ask you to agree to drug testing every few weeks, just temporarily to help avoid a relapse.” Spencer cleared his throat and gave one solid nod, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. They were understandable requirements. “And Reid, I am serious when I say that if this becomes an issue again, no matter what I want, I can’t promise your job security, especially if it turns into a safety issue for the team.”

Spencer had arguments on the tip of his tongue, but he kept his opinions to himself, not wanting to risk being put on the sidelines for longer than he already was. Hotch told him that he had work that he could retrieve from JJ in her office, effectively dismissing him.

But before Spencer left Hotch’s office, he said, “And Reid?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re back,” Hotch gave him a warm smile, and Spencer returned it before leaving.

He only managed to take three steps across the bullpen before Penelope descended on him like a hawk… but, like, a glittery, friendly hawk.

“Spencer! You’re back! When did you get back, why was I not told that you were back??” She rattled off, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Hey PG, I actually just gave my paperwork to Hotch, so…” Spencer paused, then reached out an arm. “Come on.”

Penelope’s eyes widened and she broke out in a huge grin, pulling him in for a bear hug, up on her tiptoes. “It’s so, so, _so_ good to see you back here,” she said by his ear before giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Spencer looked out across the office space, the soft bustle of work an ambiance he missed. “It’s good to be back.” He smiled.

Penelope gave a soft _’tch’_ and wiped his cheek where she kissed him. “Alright, let’s get you settled back in, hm?”


	86. Chapter 86

Spencer stood at the bathroom sink, his knuckle white grip against the edge of the countertop keeping his hands from shaking. Water from where he had scrubbed his face dripped against the ceramic, the _plink_ ringing loud in his ears. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

_i’m fine, i’m fine, i’m okay, i’m safe_ he mentally chanted, trying to convince his amygdala that he wasn’t in danger with positive affirmations and reassurances. He looked at his watch. _two minutes. i have approximately two minutes before someone knocks on the door to check on me, not factoring in the possibility of someone walking in to use the restroom._

It had been three days. His first two back, he had jumped into his work headfirst, elated to be doing something useful again, utilizing his time in a more productive manner than reading about different types of cacti (of which there are 139 genera and nearly 2000 species). But today, he was caught off guard by one file he was going over, and the crime scene photos therein. It was a simple consultation, the local police department needing a second opinion on a case involving a local government official and their family. But as Spencer read the description of the crime scene and what the murder victim had endured, his stomach had started to twist into knots, and flipping through the photos had been his breaking point. He had kept himself together until he was in the bathroom, then broke down, shaking violently as tearless sobs racked his chest.

The victim’s thighs, genitals, and abdomen had suffered severe lacerations and stab wounds, the killer obviously a sexual sadist. His body had been found stuffed behind a dumpster, naked and twisted.

_that could’ve been me._

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shove the thought back down again.

He took as much time as he could spare before leaving the restroom and returning to his desk, sitting down and once again coming face to face with a file he was expected to give a second, _unbiased_ opinion on. He closed it and set it aside, deciding to work on everything else first. He even debated asking someone else to handle that particular case, but didn’t want to overreact or make anyone worry.

But his attempts to distract himself proved unfruitful, demonstrated by Rossi’s appearance next to his desk. He had clasped a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, and he almost jumped out his skin in surprise, reflexively flinching away from the unexpected touch.

“Sorry,” Rossi said, raising his hands in a placating manner. “Just thought I’d stop by for a chat, you seem to have a lot on your mind.”

“No, not really,” Spencer said, shaking his head. “Just, uh, working,” he said, gesturing to the file open on his desk.

“Then it must be a real head-scratcher, considering you haven’t turned a page in almost five minutes,” Rossi rebutted, arching an eyebrow critically. Spencer pressed his lips into a thin line, not quite sure how to reply. He and Rossi were quiet for a beat before Rossi spoke up again. “Come on, let’s take a break,” he suggested. “Emily was complaining about wanting some real food, and I could go for lunch.”

“Thanks, but I’m good for now,” Spencer said, turning back to his work. Rossi pressed a bit, but gave up as Spencer resisted his goading. Instead, Rossi and Emily went by themselves, and Spencer suspected that they’d be taking an extended lunch, if their already boisterous comportment was anything to go off of.

They had only been gone about half an hour before Rossi’s position by Spencer’s desk was once again occupied by another figure. This time, Derek stood there, announcing his own presence by shuffling a bit as he approached.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Spencer didn’t look up. Still, Derek’s hand was in his line of sight when he grabbed the file Spencer had shoved away from the rest of his work, the one that had triggered him to read. He realized then that maybe his run to the restroom hadn’t been as well covered up as he initially thought. Spencer watched as the file in Derek’s hand disappeared from his range of view, before being replaced by a take out menu.

“Pen said she’s buying lunch,” Derek only halfway explained, and the implication was clear.

Spencer stared at the menu blankly for a silent moment before begrudgingly sliding it closer to himself.

Apparently satisfied with this, Derek told him to text PG with his order, then walked back over to his own desk. Spencer eyed Derek over the brim of the menu, watching as Derek added the file to his own workload. A _thank you_ was on the tip of his tongue, but instead of calling across the way, Spencer simply focused back on the menu in front of himself. He could eat lunch in trade for Derek taking the file off his hands, he reasoned with himself.


	87. Chapter 87

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! just real quick i wanted to say thank you guys so so much for all your amazing comments recently. i love to talk with you and am so thankful for each and every interaction. it's not only an incredibly positive feeling to know that other people enjoy this story, but it's also a huge source of motivation to really keep putting my all into this thing! never feel hesitant to chat with me, i really do love and appreciate every word <3 also, my socials are on my profile as well, so if you ever wanted to check those out, i encourage it! anyway, enough blabbering from me, on to the update!

Spencer was doing better. He went to therapy once a week, he hadn’t had another panic attack at work since the first, and he had actually gotten a good night’s sleep without waking up from a nightmare at 2 am, or being completely unable to fall asleep in the first place. He, Penelope, and Emily went to a convention together, where Emily got Jim Pascoe’s autograph, and Penelope met Felicia Day (almost hyperventilating in the process). Spencer talked and laughed and had a genuinely good time. When someone bumped into Spencer’s back, hard and unexpected, on the ground floor, he didn’t panic. They simply exchanged apologies. Spencer pretended not to notice Emily’s watchful gaze over the incident.

Of course, recovery isn’t always linear, and he would be lying if he claimed to not struggle often, but he was fighting for his life back. After Tobias Hankel, he had trouble, no doubt, his first bout with drugs had proven that much, and he had to work to get himself clean, but this was different. With Tobias, he had been hurt, terrified, literally moments from death, and with Ben it was all the same, but worse, with the added sting of the betrayal of a familiar, trusted face, and the way he was violated by that familiar face only adding salt to the wounds. Before, he only had to work through the fear of being dragged away by the unknown threat, but now he feared those who were meant to be trusted, and it was something he focused most of his therapy sessions on; relearning how to trust.

The first case he was allowed back in the field on, he refused to allow anything to prevent him from performing his duties anything below immaculately. He felt the drive to prove to the team, as well as himself, that he not only could still do his job, but do it at a capacity that matched, if not surpassed, his previous capabilities.

Sex workers had been disappearing off the streets for weeks, and the local law enforcement was split on the issue; half believed it was a real concern, while the others believed that it was normal nomadic habits for people of those lifestyles. Spencer holed up with all the case evidence, a corkboard, and a map, and refused to eat, sleep, or otherwise distract himself until he had solved the disappearances. Of course, the issue with that was that it negated the existence of a team, Spencer acting as if he were a solo detective in a noir novel.

Spencer trailed a finger along the map, mentally connecting the pushpins to one another in different patterns, trying to force the timeline to make sense. According to witness reports, many of the missing persons were disappearing in clusters. Two or three would go missing within one or two days, then the unsub would go quiet for approximately a week. But the unsub would be pressed for time to be able to kidnap their most recent victims. Marriotte Londen, Krystal Urich, and Sara Finch… all missing within 30 hours, all from vastly different areas. Those three brought the supposed body count up to 16 women.

What was more, the unsub’s type didn’t seem to have many consistencies beyond the victims being vulnerable sex workers. The victims were of mixed race, build, personality… It seemed to be totally random, a mission-oriented killer attempting to eradicate the local prostitute population. 

No bodies had been uncovered as of yet, which was the most frustrating to Spencer, especially in regards to his ability to build the geological profile. He predicted that the dumping ground was closely related to the location that the unsub would also carry out the murders. The level of capability of this unsub reminded Spencer of the Holcombe case and his horrifying maze.

That call back made it click in Spencer’s head. Almost frantically, Spencer began pulling down the victims’ pictures from the corkboard, arranging them on the table in multiple different ways. He was so focused on trying to sort the images, he didn’t hear Rossi’s comment at first, much less noticing his, Derek, and JJ’s presence in the room.

“Hellooo? Einstein? … Reid,” Rossi repeated, Spencer finally looking up, almost seeming surprised at the interruption. “Care to tell us what you think you’re doing?” Rossi asked, exasperated.

“More than one unsub, could be three but most definitely at least two,” Spencer replied quickly.

“Why do you think that?” Derek prompted, leaning forward to watch Spencer sort the pictures more closely.

“I don’t _think_ it, I know, okay? I wouldn’t have said anything otherwise,” his annoyance seeped through his voice, frustration evident as he tossed down a picture. He took a breath, then responded properly. “It would be almost impossible for one individual to get to each location, subdue each victim, and take them to a secondary location in the provided timeline. Jaqueline, she saw Sara get into a dark blue sedan, and Sasha said Marriotte was talking to someone through the window of a black hatchback. What if these aren’t just eye witness inconsistencies? What if they each saw different vehicles, different drivers?”

“So they’re working together, but separately,” Derek thought out loud. “They each go out and find a girl on the same night, then meet back up somewhere with them.”

“If I can figure out which unsub took which girls, maybe one of their movements can be tracked easier,” Spencer confirmed.

“I should let Hotch and Emily know,” JJ said, pulling out her phone. “Maybe they can get new witness info knowing there might be two unsubs.”


	88. Chapter 88

An old woman kept Derek trapped in conversation as he and Spencer walked down the damp, odoriferous, pothole-ridden sidestreet. Derek had slowed his pace in order to prevent the woman, who called herself ‘Gemma,’ from having to all but gallop to keep up, but Spencer plowed ahead, their conversation background noise to him as he continued his search. Gemma was one of the fixtures of the homeless community in this area, and when approached by the two men about any possible unmarked streets, or alleyways not shown on maps, she was willing to direct them toward the few she knew of.

Apparently, back in her day, she had been a sex worker as well, but as she got older she stopped catching as many clients until she wound up working at a diner while living out of her car. When the diner closed down, she had to sell her car to pay for food, and that was how she wound up on the street. She had a son, but he lived states away and never reached out to her, and her sister had died from a drug overdose early on, which caused Gemma to take a very firm stance on drugs in her later years. One of the girls who had gone missing, Caitlynn, was one of ‘Gemma’s girls,’ a small tight-knit group of girls who were like a family. Gemma would shower and eat at their homes when offered (which was most often), but insisted that she still live on the streets because she felt it was her job to help the junkies who sought help get clean, and chase off ‘no-good lowlifes.’ Because of this matronly nature she had about her, she was more than willing to help the FBI in preventing any more disappearances. By the time Derek and Spencer found what they were looking for, they knew just about all of Gemma’s life story.

What they found was a thin alleyway between two buildings; not large enough for any sort of vehicle to fit through, but wide enough that two people could. The alleyway let out right on a busy street, an easy spot for a car to pull over, let the passengers in, and peel off to drive away again.

“I _told_ you there was a shortcut,” Spencer said, unfolding his map then and there to draw a shaky line where the pathway resided. “This is it, this is how they’re getting to all these different locations!”

“So then there must be three,” Derek said. “One to drive the car out of here, one to force the girl down the alley, and one to pick them up on the other side. But that still leaves the question; why? What’s the motive, why do all of this?”

Spencer didn’t have that answer yet, but the quicker they found the unsubs, or the kidnapped girls, the sooner they’d know.

“Hey, Gemma, do you know what these buildings are?” Spencer asked.

“Sure sweetie. This one was an old butcher shop, but the poor bloke who owned it just recently got run right out of business. I suppose nowadays people don’t like to see the work that has to be put in for their food before it’s all wrapped in plastic,” she snorted. “That one is a general store, although they don’t sell anything too fancy. Mostly snacks to the schoolboys and novelty items to the gullible. Been in the same family for generations, they seem nice enough but I’ve heard talk that Bobby Jr wants to relocate when he inherits the place from his father. It’d be a shame if they did, I’ve always thought them to be a fixture,” her tone turned almost sad as she spoke, reminiscing on how things used to be versus how they were changing.

“Do either of them have security cameras?” Spencer asked, looking at the dirty uneven stones that dotted the way. The path seemed too well-worn for this spot to be a complete secret, but evidence of tall grass having had the opportunity to grow in the not too distant past indicated a history of public illusion.

“I doubt it,” Gemma said. “Although, there might be one across the street. They sell and fix electronics, so I imagine they have some security.”

Spencer thanked her for all of her help, and Derek added that he’d take her to lunch as repayment if she would like.

“Oh please, you are just the sweetest thing to offer, but I actually have plans with Britt today. Her cousin just got back into town, and she is making this wonderful luncheon that she so kindly invited me to,” Gemma gushed. There was no doubt that she truly cared for these girls she formed connections with.

“Well then, at least let us give you a ride there, save you a walk and Britt the gas,” Derek insisted.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” she laughed, and the three made their way over the Britt’s, Gemma giving directions the few blocks it took to arrive there.

After they made sure she got inside safely and pulled off to head back to their task at hand, Spencer made a light comment. “You seemed to really like Gemma.”

“Yeah,” Derek confirmed. “I don’t know, she reminds me of my own mom, y’know? Even when life’s throwing her curveballs, she still manages to be upbeat and all.”

Spencer nodded, and took to looking out the window as they drove. The drizzly bleakness of the morning had faded, and the sun broke out to reflect brightly off the remaining small puddles of water. They had been working the case for long enough that Spencer was starting to feel dizzy from overworking himself, especially after having been out for so long, but today, out on the streets talking to potential victims and innocent bystanders, only strengthened his resolve to make sure this case was solved before anyone else could disappear.


	89. Chapter 89

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK!!!!
> 
> to those of you who have been patiently waiting for my regular upload schedule to resume, i am terribly sorry for your wait, and thank you so much for sticking out the drought with me. my mental health was on the rocks something terrible for a bit, so i am very happy that i am doing quite a bit better now. the 1 1/2 - 2 months i took off were not planned, nor were they recreational, unfortunately, but instead were a result of severe seasonal depression and overall loss of my me-ness. scary times, but again, thankfully i am feeling a lot better now and hope to resume my uploads per usual in the coming weeks. again, i want to apologize for the lack of notice, but also thank you guys for sticking around for me to come back. <3 <3 <3
> 
> this chapter was just a short one to come on and say hello, the next chapter will be longer and posted directly after this so you have a bit more to read.

That evening as they were headed back to the hotel, Emily asked Spencer if she could sleep in his room that night.

Well, she said ‘hang out for the night,’ but still. Spencer was visibly surprised by the request, mouth agape and almost spilling his coffee.

“Um, what?”

“No, I know, it’s weird, but…” Emily seemed uncharacteristically embarrassed, eyes cast down to look at her hands instead of at Spencer, picking at her nails. “I’ve been having nightmares,” she huffed out an awkward laugh, her smile doing little to hide the slight tremor in her voice. “And it’s always the same thing, right? It’s always, what if I never went to check on you guys, what if I got there too late, and I keep… waking up just _knowing_ that you’re- you’re _dead_...” She shook her head, as though shaking out the thought even then. “And the same damn thing happened with Hotch. I called him every morning for like a month, and I hadn’t even seen him, just the blood…”

As Emily spoke, Spencer looked at her closer. With all of his energy and focus having been thrown into work and keeping himself steady, he had all but tuned out the team. He recalled Penelope mentioning that Emily was talking to a therapist, but he had thought nothing more of it at the time. Now, regarding her with a more critical eye, Spencer could see that Emily was on edge to say the least. Her eyes were rimmed pink, which would normally be a sign that the person had been crying but Spencer knew that Emily’s eyes would start to water if she didn’t get enough sleep, creating the same effect, and her fingernails and cuticles had become the victims of anxiety-induced picking and biting. Because she had been so active and acting as usual, Spencer hadn’t thought to check in on her, but now he regretted assuming she was faring much better than he had been. Her protectiveness over him since everything happened was more than just her being a concerned friend; she was genuinely anxious something would happen again. A pit formed in Spencer’s stomach, and he knew he needed to show her that he was doing better, that he was safe (even if he was still in the process of showing himself that as well).

So that was how, within the hour, Spencer and Emily were trying to figure out how to unfold a rolling cot and almost breaking the hotel room’s television in the process.

“You shouldn’t have to have a fucking engineering doctorate to be able to work this thing,” Emily complained, looking prepared to chuck the entire thing out the window.

“I can think of at least thirty _better_ ways this could have been designed,” Spencer agreed, even as they finally clicked the metal rods into place.

As annoying as the cot had been, it did help to lessen the apparent stress radiating off of the pair, Emily because of her worry over Spencer, and Spencer because of his guilty conscience over Emily’s worry. Spencer hadn’t slept much since being on this case, but with him and Emily both in need of a comforting night’s rest, they each settled in for the evening without much trouble.


	90. Chapter 90

The case progressed as one would expect it to, the team slowly compiling details to lead them towards the killer (or, as it were in this case, killers). Penelope tracked down car tags and traced vehicle movements through surveillance footage, Derek and JJ interviewed what friends or family they could find of the victims for any information they might have missed, and Emily and Spencer tried to separate the victims into a type to try and get a better profile on at least one of the unsubs. Because of the lack of bodies, Hotch had his hands full on the procedural side of things, mostly just arguing with officers and elected officials (who were more worried about their public image than the missing people) about how long they would push the issue actually being an issue.

“Literally the only thing connecting these women is that they are all in their 20-30s and are conventionally attractive,” Emily eventually sighed, leaning back in her chair. “We can sit here and make stacks of the blondes versus the brunettes and the ones with tattoos versus the ones without, I don’t think it matters. The only box they all consistently tick is ‘generally good looking.’”

“Maybe that’s all that matters to the unsubs,” Spencer thought aloud. “Maybe it’s not about what the unsubs are drawn to at all. Maybe they are simply targeting women that society in general would be drawn to.”

“What, you think they’re making a deep observation of societal beauty standards?” Emily asked, incredulous.

“Not at all, I think they’re doing the exact opposite,” Spencer hastily corrected. “I think they, or at least the ringleader, are obsessed with them.”

“I’ll be honest, I’m not sure what we’re going to be able to do with that,” Emily said.

“Me neither, but it’s a better theory than no theory at all.”

“I just don’t understand the motive. If we had bodies to look at, if we knew what these guys were doing to these women, then we’d have something tangible to go off of,” Emily lamented. “I mean, are we any closer to finding a potential dumping ground?”

“Rossi’s out to take a look at a Jane Doe, but it’s unlikely that it’ll be one of these victims. I think this is going to be a mass grave situation if we find it,” Spencer said.

“They’d have to either mask the smell somehow, or it’s out in a secluded area,” Emily chewed her lip as her eyes flitted across the map, not gleaning anything new but still searching for something to reveal itself.

Spencer was incredibly frustrated. He had intended to come back into the field with a bang, sweeping up the case quickly and gracefully, but this was turning into a nightmare of dead ends. And his mind did not hesitate to supply him with thoughts such as _’it’s your fault, you shouldn’t have come back at all,’_ and _’if you don’t figure this out, you might as well resign,_ ' none of which were exactly promoting productivity or efficiency.

It was the sort of thing he was expected to tell his therapist. He filed that away for future acknowledgment and got up to refill his coffee.

Spencer was jealous of this police station’s break room. It was spacious, with two round tables and plenty of counter space to work with. Their coffee pot was accompanied by a well-stocked selection of syrups and creamers, of which he had been indulging in since their arrival. As he made a fresh mug, an officer entered the break room as well, which Spencer paid little mind to until he addressed him.

“Enjoying yourself?” The officer, whose name patch read ‘E. Britell’, asked as he rummaged in the fridge.

“I’m sorry?” Spencer replied, confused, hands stilling where he had been about to grab one of the flavorings.

“The coffee add-ins,” Britell said, successfully retrieving a tupperware from the fridge before nodding his head toward where Spencer was reaching. “It was my idea,” he continued as he made his way toward the microwave. “I’m not a big coffee guy, but I gotta have some caffeine in my system, so I figured I'd at least try to make the beans taste good, right?” He gave a lopsided grin, as though he had said something rather clever.

“Uh, yeah, I mean, I take mine black usually, but I have what Penelope would call a ‘monster sweet tooth.’”

“Penelope?” Britell questioned.

“She’s our technical analyst, but she doesn’t normally come out on cases with the rest of the team,” Spencer explained, returning to his task at hand as he spoke.

“Ah, is she the one who likes to chat up Agent Morgan?” The amusement in his voice made it apparent that Penelope had once again managed to forget the existence of speaker phone and potentially get herself in trouble with her mouth.

The thought made Spencer chuckle. “Yeah, that’s her alright,” Spencer said.

“And what about you?” Britell asked, leaning in a bit. “Are you tryna chat up anybody?”

Spencer’s smile froze in place, threatening to chip like old paint on rotten wood. He focused very carefully on the heat radiating off of his mug, feeling it seep into his fingertips and then his palms as he wrapped his hands around it. “No, not right now,” he said, his tone still even and upbeat, but hollow to his own ears. “I actually just got out of a pretty rough relationship, so, y’know, taking time for myself and what have you.”

“Oh really? I’m sorry to hear it.”

And to his credit, officer Britell sounded sincere, he really did. But as he continued to speak, he reached a hand out and clasped Spencer’s arm, and that was it, really. It could’ve easily only been a couple of seconds, just a squeeze, a common form of reassurance. But it didn’t matter, because Spencer felt as though fire ants had broken out across his skin, and his breathing halted. He wasn’t certain if he visibly jumped or not, just like he wasn’t certain if he actually said “excuse me” before quickly leaving the room, but neither mattered. What mattered was that he put as much distance between himself and the break room as possible before he lost what little composure he was clinging to in order to make it across the backend of the building towards the nearest exit.

The cool air hit his skin hard when he shoved open the door, and he gasped out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The fresh air enveloped him, and he let it push away the crawling feeling that was travelling across his body. He breathed in deeply, and held it for a brief moment before exhaling heavily again.

The door opened again behind him.

“Reid?? What happened, what is it??” Rossi’s worried voice swam through Spencer’s ears, and Spencer simultaneously was grateful for the friendly presence and annoyed that his solitude had been interrupted. Instead of speaking, Spencer just shook his head in a nonproductive reply and slumped down onto the steps, hanging his head near his knees and pretending that his butt wasn’t freezing on the concrete in the process. Rossi hesitated for a moment, but ultimately settled down onto the steps next to him, patiently waiting for Spencer to be ready to talk.

When he was, Spencer gave the shortest, most condensed version of events he could (essentially _’an officer flirted with me and i freaked out when he touched my arm’_ ), and felt ridiculous saying it out loud. He knew he overreacted. He knew this wouldn’t bode well for his teammates' assessment of his mental well being. But in that moment, he was okay with it, because Rossi was calling the officer an asshole (even if he wasn’t) and telling Spencer to ‘say the word’ and Rossi would ‘handle the guy,’ which Spencer huffed a quiet little laugh at.

By the time Spencer was ready to go back inside, his knuckles were chapped and his hair was a mess from the breeze, but he felt recovered from his momentary panic and was ready to work again.

At which point he realized that in his haste to exit the vicinity, he had left his coffee in the break room.

He sighed and resigned himself to working without a sugary caffeine boost, preferring that to the possibility of running into Bristell again.


	91. Chapter 91

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N; sorry for any typos, feel free to point them out and i'll fix them. shakes + dyslexia been hitting hard dkjldsjlj

Spencer didn’t end up single-handedly solving the case, and flawlessly apprehending the suspects, and having that as his grandiose return to fieldwork. It wasn’t a realistic fantasy in the first place, but Spencer still would have liked to have more of an opportunity to showcase his capability to be back out in the field. Instead, the way the unsubs were caught was… particularly underwhelming, all things considered.

Surveillance cameras had been set up in the windows of the buildings on each side of the alleyway they had discovered with Gemma, and they caught exactly what they thought they would; a man, tall and lanky, guiding a woman through the small passage, pressing something to her back. Whether it was a knife or gun couldn’t be determined in the footage, but it was clear that it was compelling enough to make her obey, and waiting at the end of the alley was the black vehicle.

Following the car took the team across the state, quite a bit far off, and all the way to a rural area, down badly paved roads, to a barn that looked run down and unused, a ways off from a farmhouse that did look inhabited. It was actually one of the many homes that police had already visited and cleared the residents of suspicion.

Which immediately brought the officers who supposedly carried out the questioning under suspicion, as the house, after being raided, was found to have a number of… telling objects simply scattered about. A skull bowl that one of the killers said with a grin was inspired by Ed Gein. A number of teeth in a decorative wooden box. Weapons of various complexity laying out. It was infuriating for the team to see so much clear evidence out in the open in this home when they were having so much trouble locating the unsubs.

Three men, including two brothers and a friend, were arrested for the kidnapping and murder of the women, and two women found being held captive in the barn were rescued. A mass grave would be dug up behind the home, exposing the sheer number of people who had disappeared under officials' noses without them batting an eye. The older brother and his friend were more than happy to share why they were kidnapping these women. It was a sick and twisted version of a pageant show, where the loser for each round would be beaten cruelly, and the overall beauty queen would be rewarded with her life… which was a lie that the older brother seemed especially proud of being able to reveal after the fact.

Because a new investigation had to be launched to investigate if certain officers hindered the apprehension of the unsubs by not doing their jobs and forging paperwork, the team ended up having to stay even longer to give their statements. By the time they were able to board the jet to return home, Spencer was truly exhausted. Granted, comparing his situation to that of the victims of this case, he was incredibly well to do, but when he landed a step wrong boarding the jet and fell back into Hotch, he kind of wanted to be swallowed by the Earth’s crust. Hotch managed to take a step back before Spencer could fully crash into him, and prevented Spencer’s feet from leaving the ground with a firm hand in the middle of his back.

“Are you alright?”

Spencer loathed being to be asked that question, but he still gave an awkward smile and replied, “Yeah, sorry, I just lost my footing, sorry.” He got onto the plane and quickly slid into the nearest seat, which happened to be across from Derek. He barely acknowledged him before pushing up the armrest separating him from the seat next to him and stretching out across both.

“Tired?” Derek asked facetiously. Too facetiously. In fact, it sounded amused, joking, daresay… mischievous.

“I swear to you, if you don’t let me sleep, I will _end_ you,” Spencer warned.

“Oh really, is that how it’s going to be?” Derek chuckled.

Spencer nodded with dramatized seriousness before closing his eyes and laying his head back. He had only kept them closed for a few seconds before the hairs on the back of his neck started to rise. He tried to ignore it, but that only led to the anxiety building and snowballing until he snapped his eyes open to look around himself and insure his security before he could close them again. This happened again before Spencer realized with devastation that he wasn’t going to be able to rest until he was back home… Which meant that the flight was going to feel incredibly, painfully long. There were a couple times that he almost did manage to fall asleep, but both times was jerked awake by his subconscious not allowing him to actually do it.

Spencer huffed, which immediately led to a yawn, and shifted to try and get more comfortable. Derek glanced up from his book at Spencer, but his eyes dropped back down fairly quickly, it having been more of a reflexive response to the motion in his peripheral vision than anything. Spencer found himself zoning out while staring at the pages of the book, as they slowly rose up before being caught and smoothed back down by Derek, keeping them out of his way as he read. The slow but repetitive motion and the soft _shish_ of the pages periodically turning managed to keep Spencer’s brain distracted enough that, though he didn’t fall asleep, he did manage to skirt the edges of a hypnagogic state, bordering on sleep.

When the jet landed, Hotch offered to drive Spencer home and he accepted. The ride was quiet, Hotch playing the radio quietly as Spencer told him when and where to turn. They didn’t talk about anything, really, and Spencer was fine with that.

Spencer ended up falling asleep quickly that night buried under a mound of blankets, not bothering to unpack his go-bag or eat dinner first.


	92. Chapter 92

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: again, sorry if there are typos! lmk if any stand out and i'll go in and fix those bad boys

128 pounds.

Penelope bounced on her heels as she and Spencer waited in line. It was fairly long, as it was the premiere week of the movie they were there to see, but they didn’t mind the wait, as the excitement of everyone there filled the air. It was a futuristic dystopian film of the mecha variety, and had many notable sci-fi actors in it, which excited Penelope. Spencer originally wasn’t going to be able to go, but his therapist had an emergency come up and his appointment was rescheduled, freeing up his afternoon.

A familiar voice squealed out “ _PEN!!!_ ” before a flash of pastel purple and black pounced on Penelope. Lola had finally shown up, having been running behind after a particularly fussy client at her salon had kept her late at work. “It feels like it’s been _forever_ ,” she complained, pretending to wipe away tears dramatically before turning to Spencer. “Oh my gosh, look at how _long_ your hair has gotten!! You look like Hozier, or the guy in Borns.”

“Who?”

“They’re singers with literally your same hair, long and wavy and _pretty_ as hell.”

Spencer brushed a loose strand behind his ear self consciously. He knew he had let it go for a while now, and though he hadn’t been paying much attention to its length, it probably needed a cut, but he just didn’t feel comfortable getting it done. So instead he had been scooping it up into a low bun every day.

Instead of saying all that, he simply replied that he was “Trying something new.” She notably didn't pounce on him as well, even though she hadn't hesitated to in the past, and Spencer immediately began overthinking why, what Penelope might have said to her to prevent her from doing so. He couldn't decide which was more uncomfortable; knowing Penelope said something, or just letting her grab him without saying anything and risking the potential embarrassment of a flinch.

When the line finally started moving, it went surprisingly fast, and the three were seated when the introductory trailers were still rolling. Lola and Spencer sat on either side of Penelope, and Spencer used the seat between himself and the aisle for all their bags. Spencer swore to Lola that once the movie started, he’d be quiet, as his reputation as a movie talker preceded him, but she just laughed it off.

“If you talk, it’ll give me an excuse to go see it again, right?” She joked. Even so, when the movie started, and people shushed each other and shifted in their seats to get comfortable, Spencer stayed true to his word. Penelope, also a movie talker, tried to stay quiet too, but couldn’t help an occasional exclamation or flail in her seat, particularly towards the very end, when a plot twist was revealed.

“ _No!!_ ” She gasped, and clamped a hand over her mouth in shock. “Oh, oh no way,” she still said through the muffling of her hand. “Did you see that coming??”

“Which answer will make you shush?” Lola replied, swatting her arm.

She contained herself, but only until the credits were rolling. The second the first lights came back on, Penelope was off. “I cannot be _lieve_ they did that! First, killing off Kendall was _so_ messed up, like I get why they did it, but holy guacamole! But then the Peter reveal?? Oh my god. I can’t imagine how they’re going to do the sequel.”

“Wait, so they’ve already confirmed a sequel??” Lola asked.

“Well I mean, supposedly Kadejah’s contract is for multiple movies, they hinted about it in an interview, but nothing’s been confirmed,” Penelope explained.

“If they do a sequel, it’ll likely have to focus on a whole new cast of main characters,” Spencer chimed in. “I can’t see them trying to reintroduce Peter and Allayah into the main cast. Which character did Kadejah play?”

“They were Brittney, the mechanic.”

“Right, so they might have a small, expositional role, or if the writers wanted to tie in Peter’s arc, then they could end up switching sides, although I can’t say how that would work out…”

“Well, either way, I’m about to be trolling forums to see what other people are theorizing,” Lola said, already clicking away on her phone. “Do you guys want to do dinner before heading home? Or we can see if the comic shop actually has posters in stock yet.”

“Sorry babe, not tonight,” Penelope said, stretching as they stepped outside into the cool evening air. “The line will probably be crazy long if they do, and I’m full of popcorn. Spencer and I have work tomorrow, you know.”

Lola sighed in fake sorrow. “Oh fine, you government puppets. Go do your government puppeting. I’ll be here, scrolling reddit…”

“I resent being called that _very much_ ,” Penelope replied. “I prefer to think of myself as a rogue, reluctantly teaming up with the big guy to keep the bigger guys off my back while still protecting the little guy.”

“Yeah, and I prefer to think of myself as, y’know, a person,” Spencer added on, only slightly teasing Penelope for her fantastical way of viewing things in contrast to his own black-and-white.

Lola snorted. “Right, well, you give me a call when that person decides to get a trim. I’m thinking you’d look great with a side part loose bang, maybe layer it to really compliment your waves. Kind of like Avan Jogia, right?” She looked to Penelope for confirmation.

“Ohhh, y’know, I think he could rock that sort of shag look,” Penelope agreed thoughtfully.

“I have no idea what you two are talking about,” Spencer said. “But sure, uh, we’ll see?”


	93. Chapter 93

On Friday night, Spencer babysat Henry for JJ and Will when their sitter couldn’t make it. On Saturday, he drove Emily to the shop she had to have her car towed to when it broke down. On Sunday, he went to the library to tear through some of the works he had yet to get to. At work Monday, Rossi asked him if he wanted to come speak with him at a college in a few weeks, and Spencer accepted. Therapy appointment Tuesday, called on a case Wednesday, back in time to celebrate Penelope’s birthday without having to rush preparations. The speaking event came, happened, and passed without a hiccup.

Life was normal. Spencer was doing well.

There were moments wherein he would mentally pause, and just relish the moment. Something as simple as laughing at a joke Derek told, or wrapping his hands around a warm mug. Opening his curtains in the morning to let the sunrise in his living room. Telling the cashier he was “fine, thanks,” and meaning it when she asked how he was. He didn’t feel like he had to fake composure to get through the day. It wasn’t all at once, and it wasn’t every day, but _god,_ was six out of seven an amazing weekly ratio.

He was certain it showed on the outside as well. Penelope stopped tiptoeing around him, still never grabbing him unexpectedly but nevertheless reaching out for hugs as often as she pleased. Hotch eased up on him, going from a sedulous routine of scrutiny and questionings to a more infrequent check-in here and there. Emily, after her and Spencer’s ‘sleep-over,’ had taken to texting him at night to make sure he got in okay, but that went down from every night to occasionally, and were more for her own ease of mind than his.

And Derek… was Derek. He teased Spencer when he did something clumsy, he bribed Spencer into doing his paperwork for him, he had an applicable nickname or one-liner to fire off at the ready when the opportunity presented itself, and yet… something had shifted. Spencer couldn’t explain what it was exactly, but Derek seemed almost detached. Which would have been strange, if not for the fact that Derek had confessed his feelings for Spencer and been promptly shut down. Spencer felt bad about how unempathetic he had been in the moment, but he stood by his reasoning. It really had been terrible timing. And Spencer wasn’t ready to handle someone’s feelings like that towards him, much less attempt to pursue a relationship. Even the thought of it made him shudder a bit.

That being said, when Spencer went to work the day after he let Lola cut his hair (with Penelope close by for moral support), he perked up when Derek took notice. Penelope got hers dyed while they were there, leaving most blonde but adding streaks of purple, blue, and dark pink. She called it ‘galaxy hair.’ Lola tried to cajole him into letting her dye his hair too, but Spencer gave a hard no as politely as possible.

“Woow, look at the two of you,” Derek said jovially when he walked into work, seeing Spencer and Penelope chatting in the breakroom. “Don’t you make quite the pair.”

“Do you like it?” Penelope questioned, fluffing her hair and modeling playfully. She had done her makeup in light purple and blue, and had tiny gems along her brow to match, excited to accentuate her new look. “I was going for a sort of effervescent mermaid-esque look.”

“So does that make you Prince Charming?” Derek asked Spencer.

Spencer scrunched up his nose in thought. “Wasn’t Prince Charming Cinderella’s love interest? If you’re talking about Ariel, her Prince’s name was Eric.”

“Oh Spencer,” Penelope gently sighed and patted his arm softly. “Never change…” One of her phones went off, and she pulled away to leave. “Sorry boys, super-duper top secret important technical analyst duties to attend to.”

Derek left the room shortly after she did, not lingering after Penelope left. Spencer was disheartened, wanting to stay there and talk with Derek longer, but he didn’t stop him from leaving. It felt like he was never able to talk to Derek alone anymore, which again wasn’t unexpected or unusual due to the circumstances, but that didn’t change the way Spencer felt. He missed his friend.

“Hate the haircut that much?” Spencer looked up, surprised, to see Rossi in the doorway. “I mean, I don’t think it looks that bad, but if it’s going to make your face look like that, I’ll even pay to fix it up.”

“What? No, it’s- I’m fine,” Spencer replied quickly, shoving one side behind his ear.

Rossi stared at him blankly. “I’m thoroughly convinced,” he said, deadpan.

Spencer, very much not interested in getting questioned, made his exit as quickly as he could without coming off as rude. As he made his way to his desk, his phone beeped twice. Spencer glanced down at it absentmindedly, but stopped in his tracks for half a second when he saw the name on his screen before quickly pocketing his phone and making his way to his desk, trying to keep his expression even while his mind screamed _why why shit why fuck why_.

When he got to his desk and sat down, he managed to busy himself for only a few minutes before he _had_ to know what the messages said.

_Dustin: Hey doc._   
_Dustin: I know this is abrupt, but I’m in a bad spot… I was hoping you could help me out?_


	94. Chapter 94

“Why could you possibly need to contact me while I’m at _work_??” Spencer stood in an empty office, door shut and blinds closed, having slipped away as sneakily as possible.

“I’m sorry, you know I wouldn’t have if it wasn’t urgent,” Dustin replied. “I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m low on options right now, and I know I can trust you.”

With every word Dustin said, Spencer liked what he was hearing less and less. He pinched the bridge of his nose and started pacing across the office. “What do you need?” He asked, guarded.

“Just a place to stay until my flight tomorrow night. It’s the earliest one I could get, but I have to lay low until-”

“ _Lay low??_ ” Spencer repeated. “Why do you need to lay low, what did you get yourself into??”

Dustin laughed nervously. “Well, there’s a bit of a backstory there, but basically an old friend isn’t a friend anymore, and a rather large amount of ‘product’ went missing with him.”

“You’re asking me if you can hide from your supplier in my apartment.”

“No no, doc, I’m asking if I can stay at your place til my flight. Less than 28 hours. Friend to friend,” Dustin urged.

Spencer stared at the ceiling, thinking. Considering. Despite Dustin’s career path, he was a nice guy, and Spencer knew he’d feel guilty if anything happened to him. So, although he knew he was getting involved in a sticky situation, he agreed.

“I’ll offer to go on a lunch run for the office. I’ll text you the location and we can meet there at one. I’ll give you my key and new address so you can go ahead and head over. I get home from work around six-thirty, if the metro runs on time.” Dustin started thanking him, but Spencer cut him off before he could talk. “You need to listen to me. Do not bring _any_ drugs into my home. I don’t care what you have going on, if you bring _anything_ into my apartment you're getting kicked out.”

“Of course, no problem, I understand completely, thank you, you have no idea how much I appreciate this,” Dustin gushed.

When Spencer hung up, he peeked out between the blinds to make sure no one would notice him slipping out of the office and made his way to the breakroom to refill his coffee.

-

When Spencer got home from work, Dustin was there as expected. Marie was there as well, which was not expected, but Spencer should have known better, as where Dustin went, she was never far following. Dustin was curled up on Spencer’s couch with a book and Marie was flipping a switchblade while watching something on her phone. Spencer had to take a beat, seeing the knife, but quickly smoothed over his emotions. It was.. It was _ridiculous_ to be nervous over Marie having a switchblade.

“Welcome home honey,” Marie greeted him. “Bring us some dinner?”

“Marie,” Dustin said sharply.

“What? I’m hungry,” she pouted.

“Well I told you to get something while we were out, but you didn’t listen to me,” Dustin chided her.

Spencer listened to them squabble as he hung up his coat in the foyer rack and dropped off his messenger bag in his room. “I don’t have a guest bedroom,” he said hesitantly. “I don’t normally host company, sorry…”

“No, no, we’re sorry for intruding,” Dustin jumped in. “We’re perfectly happy to sleep in here,” he gestured to the living room furniture. “Our flight is tomorrow, we’ll probably be ready to leave here around the same time you get home from work.”

“Why don’t you have a tv?” Marie asked, changing the topic flippantly. “It’s weird. Like, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who doesn’t have a tv without being shit fucking poor.”

“ _Marie!!_ ”

“I’m just asking, _god._ ”

“It’s because I don’t need one,” Spencer said quickly. “I work a lot, and when I’m home I read more than watch things, and anything I want to watch I can do on my laptop, so…” Spencer pursed his lips and shrugged, letting that end his thought.

“Huh. Still kinda weird,” Marie replied, and unpaused the video on her phone. “Dusty, can you order a pizza? Pineapple?”

“If I order pizza, it sure as _hell_ isn’t going to be pineapple.”

Spencer internally sighed a long, heavy, exasperated sigh. He was infinitely glad that he was an only child if these two were to be considered an example of an average sibling relationship. With these two bickering… it was going to be a long night.


	95. Chapter 95

Spencer didn’t sleep at all that night. The combination of having other people in his home with the sketchy circumstances of them being there and the image of a twirling switchblade in his head did not make it easy for him to settle into bed. Every time he heard a shuffle or bump, he couldn’t help but read too much into it, his imagination running rampant with worst-case scenarios, some of which were plausible, others completely unrealistic. When the sun started peaking its first rays through his bedroom window, Spencer resigned himself to the fact that he was going to be absolutely wiped out at work.

He went into the bathroom to take a shower, but found himself entirely unwilling to do so. Putting himself in that sort of vulnerable state made his already fraying nerves ping even worse, so instead he opted to splash cold water from the tap over his face, hoping to revive himself slightly with the icy temperature. He changed quickly, brushed his teeth and hair, and opted to skip making his coffee before work, and old memory jogging in his head of Dustin once saying he hated the smell of coffee.

Marie was still passed out, completely cocooned in a large fuzzy blanket Spencer had pulled out of storage for her, but Dustin was already up, cleaning up what mess the siblings had made in the living room. Spencer got ready to leave but saw it was still way too early, and he’d have to wait forever at the metro. He decided he could go out for some actual good coffee during his extra time, but wasn’t keen on walking about when this tired, and his car was… indisposed. So, he texted someone he was certain would be up by now.

_Spencer: Hi, I’m guessing you’re awake?_

_Derek: Well ur up early. What’s goin on?_

_Spencer: I was hoping I could talk u into a coffee run with me before work._

_Derek: haha, don’t u have a car_  
Derek: ohhh yeah  
Derek: dude, u really need to get ur windshield fixed. 

Spencer rolled his eyes. His windshield had a huge crack in it where it had been hit with a rock a while back. It had started out as a small thing but had grown into a hazard. Derek, Emily, and JJ had all told him to get it fixed, Emily especially after he had given her a lift a month or so back, but he didn’t see the point in paying for a new windshield on a car he never used. Of course, it didn’t help their case if they kept giving him rides. So, Spencer ignored that and replied-

_Spencer: I’ll pay?_

_Derek: damn right u will_

Spencer grinned at the reply, feeling a sort of sense of accomplishment, and quickly shot Derek his new address, in case he didn’t remember.

Dustin and Spencer chatted quietly while Spencer waited for his ride.

“So, where are you going to go?”

“Well, the flight is to Texas, and we’ll probably stay there for a little bit, but after that, Marie says that she really wants to visit Paris… I don’t know if I’m willing to dip that far into savings, but she’s always been really nice about letting me use as much money as I want for transitioning. So, I figure it might be a sort of thank you to her or whatever to go there.” Dustin said softly, stirring an abhorrent amount of honey into his tea.

“So she thinks you guys are just going to Texas?” Spencer asked, and Dustin nodded. “Wow, that’ll be one heck of a surprise when she finds out.”

“Oh yeah, it’ll cover the next five Christmases,” Dustin stifled a laugh. “Me and Marie, we’ll start over there,” He continued, more serious now. “I’m gonna get out of the drug business. It always broke my heart to see people lost to their addictions. Marie, she’s a bit less… empathetic, so she always said I was too soft for all this. Funny, because I was the one who originally got into it. I thought it’d be an easy way to get lots of money, and honestly? It kind of was. But now, I just wanna live a good old normal, law-abiding life.”

“Well, good for you,” Spencer said. “I hope it works out. For both of you.”

Dustin smiled. “Thanks man. I really hope things work out for you too.”

When Spencer got a text from Derek to let him know he was there, Spencer gave Dustin a tentative hug goodbye. Marie was still asleep, but that was fine by Spencer. He was never entirely sure how to approach conversations with her anyway. He left the apartment and waved at Derek’s car so he could see which apartment building he was in.

“Good morning,” Derek said as Spencer climbed into the passenger seat.

The second his seatbelt was on, Spencer shut his eyes. “Hey,” he replied, admittedly bland. “It’s definitely the morning,” he added on, half in an attempt at a joke, half just being honest.

“Sleep badly?” Derek questioned, voice reflecting the concern that Spencer was positive he’d be able to see in Derek’s face if he bothered to open his eyes.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. He wondered if he should come up with some sort of excuse as to why he hadn’t slept well, but Derek didn’t ask so he didn’t bother. Instead, Derek just asked where he wanted to go (“There’s a little mom and pop coffee shop off the circle headed west, you know the one?”), if he cared if the radio was on (“No, it’s fine”), and if he wanted the temperature adjusted (“Is it obvious I’m cold?”).

It turned out that Spencer would manage to get some sleep before work, because one minute he was waiting in the drive-thru talking to Derek about mantis shrimp, and the next thing he was aware of was waking up, parked in the parking lot, Derek tapping out a beat on his steering wheel and humming along to the song on the radio.

“Wh- what time is it?” He asked blearily, rubbing his eyes as he sat up from the awkward position he had been slumped in.

“Good morning part two, sunshine,” Derek replied jovially, far too energetic in the a.m. for Spencer’s taste. “We have about ten minutes before clock-in, I was starting to worry I’d have to wake the beast.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think I’d actually fall asleep,” Spencer said. What he didn’t say was that he didn’t think he’d fall asleep _around him_ , in his car, for all the world in an uncontrolled environment. The only people he had been able to sleep around to date were Emily, which he had chalked up to being because she was the one who had actually saved his life previously, and Hotch, when he was detoxing. But now, Derek was added to that list of people, and Spencer wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“You don’t gotta apologize, you seemed like you really needed it. Besides, it was only a little while,” Derek replied, and he started getting out of the car, cueing Spencer to follow suit. “Don’t forget your coffee,” Derek said, and Spencer spun back toward the car so fast he lost his balance for a moment, making Derek laugh out loud.

Spencer ignored that, instead opting to take a long sip of his beverage. “Still hot,” he said contentedly. Derek snickered lightheartedly at Spencer’s comment, and the two made their way inside.

Spencer recalled the point in time when he would often carpool to work with Derek, and found himself wanting to pick back up that habit. The only reason they had stopped was because of… of Ben (Spencer couldn’t help but mentally stumble over his name, discomforted even in his own thoughts), and now that he was… gone, Spencer wondered if Derek would want to again. Even though Spencer had moved, he still lived in the same area, and it wasn’t very much out of the way from Derek’s route to work.

But then again, Spencer thought, it was probably a bad idea. Derek wouldn’t want to agree to it. This morning was the most time they had spent alone together in ages, and the most relaxed Spencer had seen Derek alone around him since coming back to work, and that felt like almost a lifetime ago. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on Spencer’s part. Maybe he and Derek couldn’t just go back to how things were before after everything that had happened. Maybe they would always be in this position, friendly coworkers but distant all the same.

Derek picked up on Spencer’s shift in mood, and asked him if he was alright.

“Yeah, sorry, just tired still,” he responded swiftly. “Thanks for the coffee run, I didn’t mean to mess up your schedule,” Spencer continued, having grown over-analytical of reaching out that morning. “I could have just gotten coffee here…”

“Yeah, but we don’t have whipped cream and caramel drizzle here,” Derek teased, and as though he knew what Spencer had been thinking, suggested, "Same time tomorrow?”

Spencer held back a big smile, only letting his lip twitch up for a second. “Sure, why not.”


	96. Chapter 96

124 pounds.

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months.  
Derek and Spencer started talking again, properly. They started hanging out again. When they laughed, it sounded full and honest. When they spoke, it sounded earnest and real.

Derek helped him get his windshield replaced on his car, not that it really mattered to Spencer; Derek still offered him rides and Spencer still accepted, and he preferred public transport for personal errands. But he appreciated it all the same.

Spencer slowly started getting breakfast with his coffee during their morning stops at Derek's insistence, and he felt.... ambivalent about the developing habit. He pretended not to notice Derek pretending not to pay too close attention to when he ate.

He wondered if, even after time had passed, Derek still felt the same way about him as he had before. He wondered if his angry, hurt reply to Derek’s admittance had driven away those feelings. It wasn’t productive, him wondering these things, because it only served to make him more anxious and over-analytical of their every interaction, but he couldn’t seem to help it. It was frustrating because Derek appeared to act as he always did; that is, his personality had no drastic, noticeable shift. Granted, he kept a certain sort of distance because of what Spencer had been through, but even so Derek was still assuredly Derek.

But as he wondered these things, an even more disconcerting thing wriggled its way into Spencer’s mind.

He knew what was happening, and he knew how he felt, but he also knew that there was no way in hell he would acknowledge it at this point. Still, the feeling crept through his skull and into his thoughts, and instead a soft warm light, it just felt _wrong_ , and the twisted combination of positive and negative internal feedback jumbled together until Spencer couldn’t tell what he actually felt anymore, and it only served to further propel his anxiety.

Spencer glanced over at Derek again, who was engrossed in his work. The team’s workload was unusually heavy this week because three members of the BAU’s B team were in the hospital after a car crash gone wrong left them indisposed, and Hotch had agreed to help out by handling some of their workload.

Even though he had extra work to do like everyone else, Spencer remained distracted. He looked back down at his own work when Derek flipped a page, and vowed to himself he wouldn’t unfocus until he had finished at least a third of his work. That vow was immediately broken when his stomach audibly growled, and a hunger pang ran through his midsection. He hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday, so he figured a snack would be fine… He popped open one of his drawers to find his snack stash… only to remember that he had impulsively disposed of it all barely a week ago when he was frustrated at having eaten two granola bars and a bag of chips back-to-back. Spencer closed the door back dejectly and, visibly pouting, took to scribbling absently on a sticky note while slowly reading the paperwork in front of him. It was a pretty clear-cut case, like many of the others, and Spencer suspected that was why he was so antsy. He didn’t have to dig deep or take much time on any of this. It felt vaguely like taking tests in middle school; everything was written out the same exact way it was in the lessons, no guesswork or inference.

His phone beeped, and he welcomed the intrusion. It was a message from an unknown number, with one image attached; the Eiffel Tower, and a familiar hand throwing up a peace sign from behind the camera. Spencer smiled to himself, but didn’t reply. It was a ‘we made it’ message from Dustin, and Spencer was happy for their fresh start.

His stomach growled again, and he huffed (dramatically) before tossing his phone down (dramatically) and heading towards the breakroom to find _something_ to eat (likely also dramatically). He was surprised to see that Hotch and Penelope were already occupying the table, Hotch staring numbly at the steam curling out of his thermos, and Penelope violently tapping away at something on her computer with a sour expression.

“You… two… alright?” Spencer asked slowly, feeling strongly as if he had just walked in on something conspicuously notable.

“No,” Penelope replied, pouting angrily.

Spencer and Hotch met eyes, and Hotch’s exasperation shined through. Spencer raised his eyebrows inquisitively, but Hotch just shook his head. Spencer mouthed a silent _’okay…’_ before turning to the cabinet and rummaging between peanut butter, fruit snack packs, and individual serving chip bags to grab the trail mix. He took the container and left the breakroom, eager to leave the weird tenseness of the other two behind. He passed JJ on his way back to his desk, and stopped her.

“Hey do you know what’s going on with Hotch and PG?” He asked.

“Uh, yeah, I think HR had a complaint?” JJ replied, distractedly shuffling the papers in her hands while speaking. “Something about her finding someone’s number in the employee files and ha- Shit!” Half the papers managed to slip out of the stack, scattering in the walkway. She and Spencer both quickly knelt down to gather them up again.

“Sorry, sorry-”

“No, no it’s fine, I just can’t seem to keep anything organized with all these extra files to go through,” She explained, flipping papers back and forth to ensure they were all facing the right way.

“I can help you out if you want,” Spencer offered.

“Isn’t your workload huge too?” JJ questioned.

“Well, yeah, but it’s not a problem, it’s things I can knock out in no time. I could actually use the change in pace.” Spencer assured her. JJ dithered for a moment, but ultimately accepted the assistance, and Spencer accompanied her back to her office to get started. After they fell into a rhythm of work, Spencer broached his original question again, shifting the trail mix towards her in an offer to share. “So, uh, Penelope had a complaint filed against her?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” JJ rolled her eyes and grabbed a handful of the mix. “She won’t give all the details, but apparently some guy in another department pissed her off so she hacked his phone, but she can’t technically get in legal trouble for it because of sort of loophole, I’m honestly not sure how, so the guy went to HR about it and now she has to take a sensitivity course for handling confrontation,” JJ smirked. “I can only imagine what that guy did to piss her off.”

Spencer furrowed his brow. “Doesn’t that seem weird?” JJ cocked her head questioningly, so Spencer continued. “Garcia wouldn’t do something like that just because someone annoyed her, it has to have been something more significant. She’s very intelligent but everyone knows she considers herself an _ethical_ hacker. So that prompts the question; why did she deem it ethical?”


	97. Chapter 97

The next day, Derek and Spencer walked into work loaded down with coffee and bagels for the whole team as a pick-me-up for their stressful week. While Derek paired drink orders with their recipients, JJ inadvertently grabbed Spencer’s attention. He overheard her talking to Emily about getting Henry a pet, and how he desperately wanted a gecko.

“I think it’d be good to teach him some responsibility, right?”

“Nope nope nope nope,” Spencer quickly handed off the bagels to Rossi before inserting himself into the conversation. “It’s actually considered extremely counterproductive to the proper care of an animal to refer to _any_ pet as a good ‘starter’ or as a tool to teach responsibility. It perpetuates the idea that the parent won’t need to still be involved in the care, and there are better tools to use to teach responsibility other than an animal that relies on its owners for basic necessities such as food and sanitary living conditions. Especially for reptiles, which can require strict humidity and temperature regulations in their habitats, while they can be good for kids, it’s necessary to acknowledge that the parent will still have to care for the pet. This is an issue with goldfish as well. A common misconception is that they only grow to the size of their container which supposedly makes them perfect to keep in a small space in the child’s room, when in reality the traditional ‘fish bowl’ shown in media and sold in some pet shops are actually too small for an adult goldfish to thrive in, resulting in stunted growth, not to mention the lack of filtration…” Spencer realized that he had been going on for a long minute, which was quickly followed by the realization no one had stopped him like they normally would. In fact, he was the only one who had been speaking at all. He felt self-conscious, and trailed off.

There was only a beat of silence before JJ, grinning widely, suggested, “You can help Henry and I figure out what he should get, if you want.”

And then just like that, it was as if a spell was lifted and the soft chatter of different conversations and rustling of food wrappings continued. Rossi handed Spencer a bagel and patted his shoulder before he walked away. Penelope grabbed Derek’s attention to finish handing out the drinks. Emily began telling JJ about her cat’s unexpected care needs.

“What just happened?” Spencer leaned in and asked Hotch.

“What do you mean?” Hotch asked in return.

“Everyone got so quiet… Did I say something untoward?”

“I think we were just happy to hear you talk, Reid,” Hotch replied, cocking an eyebrow.

“I always talk,” Spencer countered, confused. “Most of the time everyone thinks I do it too much.”

“Well, it’s been a long time since the teams heard you speak on anything with such, let’s say, interest.”

Spencer fell quiet at that remark, considering what Hotch had said. It was true that he had been greatly affected before by speaking at certain points, as it just brought back thoughts of Ben, whether it be in the form of his unprecedented adoration for Spencer’s long-winded monologues, or his latter control over Spencer’s speech, but Spencer rather thought that he had been doing much better. Still, his long discussions with his therapist or mother weren’t really the same as those with his teammates, especially in the different conversational environments. It made Spencer wonder what other unintentional behavioral changes might have taken place that the others could notice despite he himself being rather oblivious.

And so Spencer’s thoughts lingered on that subject as he picked at the top of his bagel between sips of coffee and brooded over his work for the morning. Unfortunately, he was still making his way through the more simplistic work, so it didn’t distract him much at all.

What _did_ distract him later on, however, was glancing up to see Penelope and JJ speaking close to one another in obviously hushed tones. JJ handed Penelope a single file, and Penelope turned tail and made her way presumably back to her own office with quick little steps. JJ met Spencer’s eyes across the bullpen, and she tilted her head toward him slightly in acknowledgment before taking a sip of her coffee and turning back to her own office. Whatever Penelope was involved with, JJ seemed to now be a part of it, and Spencer’s interest piqued.

Derek must have watched JJ and Spencer’s exchange, because moments later he was at Spencer's desk, twirling a pen in his hand and twisting back and forth in his rolling chair.

“I’d leave it alone if I were you,” Derek said in what was meant to be a nonchalant tone, but the undercurrent of seriousness in the suggestion was palpable.

“Leave what alone? You know what’s going on?”

Derek dropped the relaxed air and gestured with two fingers between his own eyes and Spencer’s. “Hey, focus. I mean it, Reid. I don’t know if you forgot, but you haven't even been back _nearly_ a year yet. Don’t go making trouble for yourself.”

“So they’re doing something that could get them into trouble,” Spencer reiterated, and Derek slumped back in his seat, groaning. “I’m guessing it has something to do with the employee that filed a complaint against Penelope.” Derek made the zipped-lips motion, locked it, and threw away the imaginary key. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll just get JJ or Pen to tell me,” Spencer threatened.

“Oh, well in that case-” Derek pulled out his phone and started clicking away, and it took Spencer a second to realize he was texting. Texting JJ and Pen to not tell him anything.

“Hey, wait! That’s not fair!” Spencer exclaimed, lunging forward to try and playfully snatch away Derek’s phone. Derek pulled his arms up away from Spencer’s grasp and kicked off Spencer’s desk to make his chair roll away. Spencer tried to grab the arm of the chair, but ended up only knocking it just hard enough to make Derek start a slow spin. Spencer took advantage of the angle change to reach for the phone again, but Derek leaned away, over the side, and almost managed to tip himself over out of the chair. Spencer had only just managed to catch Derek’s arm to help him balance, both of the men laughing and bickering with minimal attempts to muffle their merriment the entire time.

“Aaand _send_ ,” Derek said smugly, meeting Spencer’s gaze with a mischievous grin.

And Spencer, holding onto Derek’s sleeve, leaning in close, distracted by that too-familiar happy gleam in Derek’s eyes and his own mirrored mirth, forgot what exactly it was he had been trying to achieve. So instead of replying, Spencer leaned in closer, and he swore he could hear Derek’s quickened heartbeat even with the sound of his own thundering in his head, and-

“Hey guys, do you know where Hotch is? He isn’t in his office…” Spencer jumped back, as though shocked, suddenly realizing that he had been holding his breath as Emily came up to them, brow furrowed as she closely inspected the papers in her hands. When she looked up, seeing Derek’s chair in the middle of the walkway and Spencer just standing there, she blinked once. Twice. “Uh, whatcha doin’?”

Spencer hesitated for a multitude of reasons ( _i don’t know, what am i doing? does she know about Penelope and JJ? What does she think we were doing? Does it look like i was going to do something?_ ), but Derek replied before he could gather his thoughts. “I’m making sure the Doctor can’t get any work done, what do you need Hotch for?”

“Oh, there are just a few inconsistencies in these officer’s reports. I just needed the go ahead to do a follow up on it to see what happened.” She said, and though she started to go into further detail, Spencer ended up tuning her out, almost mechanically sitting back at his desk and staring at his work.

_what was that? what did i just almost do? fuck fuck fuck fuck… did derek realize? surely he must have. is he going to bring it up? fuck, what was i thinking…_


	98. Chapter 98

For the rest of the day, there were only two things at the forefront of Spencer's mind. One; what were JJ and Penelope up to, and two; how long did he have before Derek brought up the thing he almost did but _didn’t_ but would have if Emily hadn’t interrupted.

Spencer tried to pry information out of Penelope, but she just waved off his inquiries with jokes, circular questions, and distractions. He approached JJ, but all she said was a firm ‘don’t try it’ and he was effectively shut down. As for Derek, Spencer was constantly expecting him to confront him throughout the day, but the conversation never came. It didn’t come when they were in the breakroom getting coffee, it didn’t come when they sat doing their work, and it didn’t come when everyone started packing up to head home for the weekend. It didn’t come when they said goodbye, and Spencer thought he was in the clear until Monday. That is, until a text came, early in the afternoon Saturday.

_Derek: Busy?_

Spencer hesitated, nervous, before replying honestly; no, he wasn’t. And after a suspended moment, made to feel longer by Spencer’s bated breath and unwavering focus, his phone rang. Not a text, a call.

Spencer gathered himself before picking up with a tremulous “Hello?”

“Hey doc, what say you join Pen and me at the zoo tonight? They’re hosting some sort of light show, Pen said it’s like a fair in the zoo?” As Derek spoke, Spencer could faintly hear Penelope trilling in the background. When he didn’t reply right away, Derek continued, “C’mon, it’ll be fun. We’ve had a long week.”

Spencer relented, though he wasn’t hard pressed to do so. With Penelope there as a buffer as well, Spencer thought it would be fine. Derek said he’d be there in about an hour, and Spencer quickly got ready to go. His hair… well, that was never going to be fixed, not when he had towel dried it and left it to its own devices. He threw it up in a half bun, and though it wouldn’t all stay, it would have to do. Pants, shirt, no not that one, button-up sweater, socks, one purple one green… but where had he put his coat? He looked in all the usual spots, but couldn’t seem to find it. It wasn’t yet cold enough outside to need it, but Spencer figured that if the event lasted until after dark, he might do well to have it just in case. As he searched, his phone pinged with a message from Derek letting him know he was there. Spencer took another quick look around and, resigned in his defeat, threw on his shoes, grabbed his keys-phone-wallet, and headed out. The golden rays shining down from a cloudless sky were reassuring enough that Spencer thought he’d probably be okay, but the slight breeze nicking his nose was slightly off-putting.

Spencer hesitated slightly at the car, seeing Penelope in the backseat and the front seat empty, but when Penelope waved him into the back, he obliged and settled in next to her.

“What took so long?!” Penelope practically squealed. “I don’t want to be late!”

“Sorry, I couldn’t find my coat,” Spencer explained. “But I don’t think I’ll need it, so…”

“Oh, no, it’s so nice out, and walking around the zoo will keep your blood movin’,” Penelope agreed. “Hit the gas, Mr. Chauffeur!” She addressed Derek.

“O-ho, I’ve been demoted, have I?” Derek challenged, and put the car in park in defiance.

“I meant, my dearest friend who just so _happens_ to be driving today, can we _please_ move our tuchuses?” Penelope corrected, and Derek obliged.

It was quickly revealed that Penelope was the DJ for the ride, as she flipped through her music library and cranked the volume from her phone. When Derek was the one in control of the music, it stayed at a reasonable volume for driving safety, and when Spencer was in control… well, he wasn’t ever, really, and even when he drove, he wouldn’t normally think to turn it on. The loud, thrumming beats drowned out Spencer’s own thoughts, and he simply watched as cars and road signs passed them by on the way to their destination. When they arrived and the music shut off with the car, the stark silence left Spencer’s ears almost feeling fuzzy, not unlike the aftermath of a particularly loud movie at the theatre, or the crescendo of an overture.

“Do you always listen to your music that loud?” Spencer questioned as they got out of the car. Penelope confirmed, and he furrowed his brow. “You’re going to need hearing aids by the time you're 35.”

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Penelope replied with faux seriousness, and in a millisecond she was calling out to someone named ‘Callum,’ waving a hand and bouncing on her heels.

“Callum?” Spencer turned to look behind himself and saw a man with loose honeyed curls and enough freckles to fully coat his face approaching with a smile that flashed pearly white teeth.

“Hey babe,” he greeted Penelope with a peck, and then turned to Derek. “What’s up man, good to see you again. And you must be… Spencer, right?” He said, giving Spencer one sweep over with his eyes. Spencer gave a small nod and wave, a tight lipped smile his only response.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind us crashing your date,” Derek laughed.

“Oh, you’re welcome to crash our dates _anytime_ , Derek Morgan,” Penelope said, cocking her eyebrow with a salacious smile even as she was hanging onto Callum’s arm.

“You behave now,” Callum cut in, bopping her nose softly. Penelope pouted, her glossy red lips pushing out as a perfect moment for Callum to lean in for a kiss.

Spencer felt uncomfortable, and sorely out of place. As they made their way to the line, they chatted about nothings and small somethings, sports, new music, something an actor did, and Spencer added a tidbit when he saw an opportunity, but he felt it was obvious that he was an outlier in this group. So, Spencer tuned out a bit, instead opting to watch the line of people. A mother chastised her daughter. A man and woman argued right outside the gates. A woman held her phone out, presumably looking for service. A child pet a stranger’s dog. An old man shared a pastry with a teen boy, his grandson perhaps. A man flipped a pocket knife open and close, even as his girlfriend told him to knock it off. Open and close. Open twirl close.

“Spencer?”

“Huh?” Spencer turned, startled, towards Derek. “Yeah, what’s- what?” Penelope and Callum seemed absorbed in a debate, but Derek was focused on Spencer.

“What’s wrong?”

Spencer replied too quickly. “Nothing, I’m fine.” But as fate would have it, that was the moment the man lost his grip on the knife, and his annoyed cursing exclamation was even louder than the clatter of heavy metal hitting pavement. Spencer flinched. Derek saw, and in turn saw the source of Spencer’s distraction.

“Do you want to go? We can leave,” Derek said, his gaze too serious for Spencer to meet.

“No, I just- why is flipping knives a hobby? I mean I understand the tactile sensory input aspect, but why use a knife? There are dozens of alternatives specifically _made_ for-”

“Hey, okay, look at me,” Derek stopped him, and Spencer realized he had started to shake. He met Derek’s eyes for a moment, but then closed his own, trying to focus on calming his breathing. He couldn’t look at Derek when he was looking at him… like that.

“Sorry, I- I’m fine, really,” he repeated, his embarrassment not helping the situation.

“I know, ” Derek replied, only slightly indulgent, and Spencer heard him mutter something to Penelope before readdressing him, “Come on, let’s sit down for a minute.”

When Derek took his hand, Spencer opened his eyes again and watched as he allowed himself to be pulled out of line and towards a bench along the side of the souvenir shop. He sat down willingly, the back of his head resting against hard brick.

“What do you need from me?” Derek asked, settling down next to him. “Water? Distraction?”

Spencer shook his head and, deciding brick wasn’t comfortable, leaned forward, head hanging over his lap and arms resting on his legs. Derek’s hand appeared on his back then, rubbing in small, tight circles that Spencer found far more comforting than he cared to admit. They were quiet for a long moment, and when Spencer’s heart rate had settled back down, he spoke again.

“It’s been a long time since anything… Since I’ve reacted like this to something…” His frustration with himself was evident in his bitter tone, and the tight circles turned into a softer, wider sweep. It was even more embarrassing because he had worked cases recently that put him in closer proximity to danger than this. He suspected it was simply him being caught off guard by it, as opposed to being at the ready as he was on cases. “It’s never gonna stop completely, is it?” Spencer asked no one in particular, defeated.

“No, Spencer, I don’t think so,” Derek replied. “Y’know, to this day I still… I have my bad days too. It’s nothing to feel ashamed about. You’re a survivor-” Spencer started to argue, but Derek stopped him quickly, “-I know you don’t like to think of yourself like that, but it’s true. You think anyone _wants_ to be a survivor? Being that means you’ve been through some shit, and no one wants to identify themselves with that. But you know what else you are?”

“What’s that?”

“You’re strong,” Derek squeezed his shoulder, “and you’re smart,” he flicked a fallen strand of Spencer’s hair, “and you’re not bad lookin’ either,” and with a grin Derek tapped under Spencer’s chin, making him let out a small huff of a laugh. “But most importantly, you’re Spencer fucking Reid, and that’s pretty damn amazing if you ask me.”

And looking at Derek’s gentle smile and bright eyes, his hand still hovering close to his face, Spencer wanted to kiss him again. He wanted to melt into his arms and stay there forever, the safest place he could think to be.

And maybe Derek had a similar idea, because he leaned in closer, and asked, barely audible through the air between the two of them, “Is this okay?”

And Spencer didn’t reply, instead opting to close the distance, one hand caressing Derek’s jawline, the other knotting the front of Derek’s shirt as their lips met, a greeting long overdue and much anticipated.


	99. Chapter 99

Their illusion of solitude was broken as two kids ran by, yelling as their mother called after them. Spencer pulled away, startled, and realized how far up the line Penelope and Callum had gotten. Spencer pointed this out, and Derek made a joke about ditching them before getting up and holding out a hand to Spencer. He hesitated for a moment before accepting the hand, and as they walked back hand in hand, Penelope appeared as though she were on the brink of a fainting spell seeing it.

“Not right now, baby girl,” Derek said, and Penelope, though obviously put out at not being allowed to make a scene, complied to his request while still shimmying excitedly. Spencer felt incredibly self-conscious over it all, yet kept himself quite close to Derek all the same, relishing in the fact that he _could_.

“You know, I wasn’t planning on making a move until tonight,” Derek mentioned later in the afternoon, sometime after seeing the giraffes but before they got to the lions, as they both leaned against an enclosure railing.

“Oh?” Spencer prompted, tearing his eyes away from watching as a zebra waded in the water to see Derek already looking back at him.

“Yeah, I was going to wait until the light show, the grand finale, all that. I thought it’d be romantic.” Derek bumped Spencer’s shoulder with his own softly.

Something trilled in Spencer’s chest, and his lip twitched up in a half smile. _he was planning to do it anyway… i suppose that explains the invitation._ “We can just tell people that’s how it happened. Instead of me panicking on a bench.”

Spencer saw the infinitesimal shift in Derek’s relaxed posture, and it made all the difference when he said, in a carefully casual tone, “I didn’t think you’d want to tell anyone. Yet, I mean.”

“Oh, we don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Spencer said, the words tumbling from his mouth in a rush to backtrack.

“Yeah, it’s just that I’m not, uh-” Derek cleared his throat awkwardly, “-not, y’know,” he gestured away from himself with a hand, but Spencer just looked at him blankly, as he _didn’t_ know. “I’m not _out_ to them.” Derek said it as though it were a conspiratory thing, and Spencer would’ve found it amusing if it weren’t for the topic.

“Well they’ll find out eventually if we’re dating, won’t they? Emily and I came out and it went over fine. I’m sure…” Spencer trailed off as a realization hit him. “How long have you known you’re into guys?” he questioned.

“I honestly don’t know,” Derek replied. “It took me a long ass time to accept it.”

“Long as in… Recently?” Spencer pressed.

At that, Derek hesitated, eyes flicking down to his hands as he seemed to consider his words before speaking them. “Yeah, in the last year or two…”

Spencer nodded, watching as an ostrich strutted across the enclosure, giving a wildebeest a wide berth as it made its way to the water. That answer brought up more questions in Spencer’s mind, but he kept them to himself, not wanting to be intrusive.

“Guys!” Penelope shouted from further down the way, waving an arm vigorously. “Guys, come here!!” She and Callum were in front of the lion’s enclosure, and both were glued to their spots, gazing in.

“Two cubs,” Callum pointed out as the pair approached, pointing out where the two kids played under the shade of a jutting rock, rolling over each other and pawing in their father’s mane. “Asked an employee, their names are Cleo and Pip.”

“Ooh that’s so cute,” Penelope breathed, taking pictures on her phone.

“Looks like they’re both female,” Spencer noted. “That means the zoo will be more likely to keep them together.”

“Why?” Penelope asked.

“Lions tend to exile male cubs after two to three years to prevent future competition. It’s rare to see more than a couple male adult lions within one pride, meanwhile the females can number up to eight or nine on average, but it can vary based on territory size.” Spencer’s eyes darted around the inclosure, sizing it up. “I don’t think three adult lions could share this size space.”

“That’s so sad,” Penelope said, poking her lower lip out in a small pout.

“Well, like he said, these are both girls, so they’ll get to stay.” Callum brushed her hair to the side and rested his arm across her shoulders.

The four of them continued on as the sun began to go down, sky turning from blue to yellow and pink and orange. Derek kept them moving so they wouldn’t be late for the light show, and Callum suggested they get snacks before finding seats. When they were settled, Spencer was between Derek and Penelope, Callum on Penelope’s other side.

The light show started, music slowly welling as soft blue light sparkled across the water, turning into a rich purple as the jets started rising. Spencer grabbed Derek's attention and kissed him as it began, and they shared a private joke over it. The show was fun, Penelope’s animated reactions always adding to experiences. Derek had an arm slung across the back of Spencer’s seat, and while it took him a minute to do so, Spencer settled into Derek’s side, stealing bites off his funnel cake when offered.

When the show was over, Penelope was yawning and stretching, indicative of the late hour and busy afternoon. The party of four chatted lightly as they walked out the zoo exit, Spencer naming the musical number used in the performance, Callum talking about the use of different colors to elicit different feelings complementary to the music. Callum offered to drive Penelope home, and she accepted, giggling and joking about ditching ‘her boys.’

“You make sure she gets home safe now,” Derek told Callum, wagging his finger playfully.

Callum laughed. “Wouldn’t dream of otherwise.”

Derek turned his attention back to Spencer as the group broke off into pairs. “Now let me get you home too pretty boy,” he said, and ruffled his hair.

Spencer thought he’d rather be considered handsome, or something with a bit less feminine connotations, but really, who was to say what the proper term to define someone’s beauty in the eye of the beholder could be? Besides, beautiful used to be the proper term for a man, and handsome for a woman, so it was all subjective anyway. Moreso, he just enjoyed the way Derek pronounced it, as though relishing each syllable as it left his lips, and Spencer thought he’d be happy to hear it for the rest of his life.

Spencer considered saying as much, but didn’t think he could articulate his emotions with enough fervor, so instead, as they started driving, he settled for a bit of humor. “I hope you don’t expect me to call you ‘chocolate thunder,’ or any other of the various nicknames Penelope has come up with.”

Derek laughed, and Spencer settled in for the drive.

When they got to Spencer’s apartment, they were both obviously tuckered out. Spencer almost offered Derek his couch, but froze, the words stuck in his throat. Suddenly he wasn’t so tired, the joyful peace of that afternoon settling into a chill. He said goodbye too quickly, fumbling with the door handle and pretending not to notice the way Derek had leaned across to kiss him. He closed the door slightly harder than intentional and skittered inside, feeling increasingly vulnerable. He knew he had no reason to worry, but his heartbeat still pitter-pattered unnervingly. It was a bit late, but Spencer still tried to call his therapist. It went to voicemail, as expected, and Spencer left a message.

“Hey, sorry to, uh, bother you. I know it’s late, but I just thought I ought to, uh, give you a call. That’s what people say you’re supposed to do, call your therapist when you- when you feel like you need to. So I think I just went on a date and I’m…” Spencer didn’t know how to say how he felt. “I guess I’m just reacting negatively due to past experience-” he scoffed at his own choice of words. He quickly ended the voicemail, feeling ridiculous, yet also slightly lighter. He hung up, scrubbing a hand over his face, and took a couple deep breaths before getting ready for bed.

It took him too long to get to sleep that night.


End file.
